


Nightfall

by PinguinoSentado



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Femslash, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multiple Dragonborn, Not Canon Compliant, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Romance, Slow Burn, deviates from main story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 254,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8749969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinguinoSentado/pseuds/PinguinoSentado
Summary: Eira never wanted to save the world, but when she accidentally releases an ancient vampire from her crypt, she finds herself along for the ride whether she likes it or not.Comments of all sorts are welcome. You can find me on Tumblr at pinguinosentado.tumblr.com





	1. How to Survive a Vampire Attack

The sound of running water had always been a calming one. She had always found it remarkable that nature could make its own music and, to her ears, could make it better than most minstrels she had ever met. Now that music echoed from all around her to make the whole place seem unreal. It did wonders to set the scene and Eira found herself wondering if there was a better place in all of Skyrim to just lie down and die.

Well, she would not be lying down just yet. Eira bent down toward the body of the slain vampire, removed the arrow lodged in its throat, and began to clean it. Two more lay nearby, both sporting a single arrow that had gotten stuck somewhere important. She felt almost proud of her shooting. She had long-since stopped feeling guilty over killing men so hunting monsters had become just that: hunting. From where she was standing, she could see little ribbons of red spreading outward from the bodies. She had been under the impression that vampires turned to ash when they died. That was odd. Clearly these vampires had read none of the right children’s stories.

Not that she particularly cared. So long as they died when they were supposed to, they would not hear her complaining. Finishing her work, she replaced the arrow in her quiver and stood to take in the surroundings. Being this far underground was uncomfortable, to say the least. It felt like another world, one Eira felt should only be reached by way of a funeral. At least there was a little sunlight peeking through the ceiling, the single shaft piercing the rock high above proving more than enough to illuminate the chamber. Eira and her dead friends occupied a huge stone platform that looked to be a perfect circle. It was probably wide enough for several hundred people, though she doubted she could find more than a dozen who would ever agree to set foot on it. This place gave her the creeps.

Adding to the gloom were the crumbling archways that adorned the length of the platform. All around them were grooves carved into the stone to form yet more circles, these ones with ornate torches set randomly about their center. The whole cavern had a distinctly cultist feel to it, and it was not hard to imagine scores of hooded figures sacrificing virgins to a heathen god when this place was young.

One day, she promised herself, she would get lost somewhere nice.

Eira knew it was a lie but it made her feel better anyway. Glancing over her shoulder, she could just make out the long, snaking tunnel she had used to get here. The distant mountainside beckoned, making her wonder if she should just turn around and go home. She dismissed the idea quickly. Even if she could find her way back through the maze of caverns, she could swear she had seen spiders the size of mammoths creeping through the side passages. She hated spiders. She was not afraid of them, of course, she just did not want to take any chances in a fight with something that large. And hairy. And with that many legs.

Fine, maybe she was afraid, but spiders were never meant to be that damned big. The Gods made them small so that they could fit under a boot. That was just the natural order of things.

Shivering, she looked to the far side of the cavern, hoping she would see the light of day. What she saw was darkness, illuminated just enough by the hole in the ceiling to reveal a pair of gargoyles, each peerlessly ugly and unpleasantly lifelike. With going forward no more enticing than running away, she considered just staying put and seeing how long she could survive on the local offerings of moss and mushrooms.

Eira breathed a silent sigh. She deeply regretted coming down here.

Wandering slowly toward the center of the platform, she peered upward at the distant sun, uttering a silent prayer that some benevolent deity would lift her up through the hole in the roof. When nothing happened, she pouted and returned her thoughts to the present. It was then that she noticed the little pedestal sharing her space in the sunlight. How she had missed it before was a mystery. At the exact center of the room, it came up to her waist and appeared completely innocent, save for the rust-colored flakes that dusted its domed top. Eira frowned. Blood. Maybe there really had been virgin sacrifices going on down here.

Against every ounce of common sense she possessed, she found herself reaching out to touch it. That lethal combination of ignorance and curiosity she now felt had claimed many lives before, and Eira was certainly not immune to the ravages of stupidity. The dome seemed innocent enough, even with the dried blood covering it, so what could be the harm?

As Eira’s hand slid over the pedestal, she had just enough time to register a soft, metallic click before going blind with pain.

A metal spike, cleverly hidden inside the dome, sprang upward, skewering her hand and pinning her to the pedestal. Eira fell to her knees, stifling a scream as she tried to get control of herself. The now-bloodstained spike clicked again, vanishing back to whatever corner of hell had spawned it and leaving Eira free to clutch her mangled hand. Years of experience kicked in as she began to Heal, willing her flesh to knit itself back together. Healing was an incredibly painful process in itself but, even with her hand already suffering, she managed the worst of it without crying out. She might have been proud of her self control had she not been doubled over in agony.

Moments later the wound closed and the worst of the pain was gone. In its place was a pounding headache and the numb, tingling sensation that her hand was not quite her own. Another side effect of healing was the profound exhaustion that swept over both the healer and the healed. Since Eira was healing herself, she was left with blurry vision and muffled hearing for a few seconds. A more talented mage than herself could have closed the wound without batting an eye, but Eira was not blessed with such talents.

The sound of those torches grinding through their tracks on the floor brought her back to the world. She watched, still on her knees, as they meandered around the room, finally settling into a different, equally-random pattern. They stopped as one, flaring to life and filling the room with an eerie purple light. Eira jumped to her feet as the silence was broken once more by the floor sinking and spinning, the tiles coming apart to form stairs. She stumbled back and watched the altar ascend rapidly, revealing an enormous stone pillar hidden beneath it.

It was all very dramatic, watching the polished stone monolith rise up from the floor until it dwarfed her. The floor around it dropped to form a basin, taking Eira down with it and adding to the already-prominent feeling of dread that filled the cavern.

Just as suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Now very wary of the rocks she had just bled on, Eira stood perfectly still, watching, listening for anything out of place and hardly daring to breathe just in case something else was waiting to stab her. Nothing came. What was left of her common sense screamed at her to quit while she was ahead, but curiosity won out once more, and she approached the monolith to see what her bloody investment had bought her.

The side facing her was immaculately smooth, so perfectly carved it looked almost like a panel. Just as she got within reach, if shifted and slid down, revealing a hollow chamber within.

Eira stared. There was a woman inside. She looked like she was sleeping standing up, her head lolled to the side and her arms crossed over her chest. Was this her coffin? Her sarcophagus? As the panel slid fully to the floor, whatever force had been holding her back vanished, and the strange woman began to tilt forward. Eira had just enough time to dart forward as she toppled and catch her before she hit the ground. The woman groaned softly as her hands found Eira’s sides. Her head dragged itself groggily along Eira’s shoulder as she settled down to her knees.

“Easy, I’m not going to hurt you,” Eira said softly. The woman’s head moved sluggishly as she woke from what must have been one very long nap. As the mystery woman regained her senses, Eira berated herself for her sudden decision to catch her. Everything else in this miserable place had tried to kill her, including the box she had fallen out of. With any luck she could lay her down on the floor and back away before she decided to stick a knife in her rescuer. She had just started pushing the woman away when she raised her head of Eira’s shoulder.

Eira froze, knowing she stared Death in the face. _Vampire._

All the drowsiness had gone from those glowing, orange eyes. It was awake. Eira found herself unable to move. It had her dead to rights. One lunge and she was dinner. But nothing happened. Eira stared at Death, and Death stared back.

It took Eira a moment to realize Death was probably uncomfortable waking up in the arms of a stranger. When it decided to pull away, Eira did not stop it. She was all too happy to jump back, resisting the urge to arm herself and scamper away. She doubted she could outrun the monster anyway.

The vampire looked around the cavern in confusion, its eyes flickering to Eira every few moments. She did her best to stand perfectly still as it got its bearings. Startling it seemed like a bad idea. As its gaze settled on the ground behind her, she became acutely aware of the vampires she had killed just minutes before. Did it know any of them? Did it care? Judging by her clothes, she had been in there for a very long time. The style was far different from anything she had ever seen. Dark red shirt cut low in the front, black leather guard around her middle, more black on her cape with more deep red on the inside. It only came down to her waist, which meant it was not for keeping out the intense cold of Skyrim. More black on her trousers and boots let her blend into the darkness far too easily for Eira to be comfortable.

Every time it glanced at Eira, she made an effort to meet her gaze. She did not want to see its reaction to being checked out just seconds after waking up.

Again she considered arming herself. One flick of the wrist and she could put a knife in its throat. Again she resisted. It had its chance to kill her and it let her live. In Eira’s mind, that entitled it to make the first move. Not to mention the odds of her knife actually hitting the vampire seemed remote. Already it held a spell in one hand and a dagger in the other, and judging by the lightning now arcing between its fingertips, it would have no trouble breaking her in half if she missed.

“Who sent you here?”

Eira nearly jumped out of her skin at the soft voice. In the perfect, incredibly tense silence, it may as well have shouted.

“No one. I came here for them.” Eira motioned toward the bodies. It had already seen them, so there was no point hiding from it. “They killed some friends of mine.”

To her great surprise, it relaxed a bit, letting the electricity crackling in her hand fizzle out. “I’m sorry.”

What to say to that. “Me too.”

Eira looked around uncomfortably. She had the overpowering urge to be very far away from the undead horror with whom she was now making small talk, but that terror was currently in conflict with her wonder at being alive.

“What are you doing down here?” she found herself asking.

The vampire folded her arms. It had managed to sheathe its dagger without Eira noticing, something that bothered her more than it should have. “It’s a long story. And I don’t even know who you are.”

“Eira.”

“Serana. Good to meet you.”

Eira’s mouth twitched in spite of her fear. Of course she would get the smartass vampire.

She managed to bite back the horde of questions banging on her teeth. As interested as she was in the answers, the way it had reacted to her first question told her to keep quiet. Surviving a vampire landing in her lap was more than enough for her. She did her best not to stare at the Elder Scroll strapped to its back.

“Listen, it’s a nice place you’ve got here, but I wasn’t planning on sticking around,” Eira said, trying her best to be casual and ignoring the profound comedy of the whole thing. The vampire did not look amused. “Are you going to be all right getting out of here?”

The vampire looked around the room one more time, its expression growing more and more uncomfortable. “I don’t know. This place looks pretty different from when I was locked away,” it said carefully. It had no idea where the exit was, either. Terrific.

Eira looked up toward the blackness at the far side of the cavern, now partially obscured by Serana’s stone coffin. It would be so easy to just walk away. The vampire might not even follow her. It clearly was just as unhappy about this as she was. She could just leave.

Her shoulders sagged. She was not about to repay its mercy with abandonment.

“There might be a way out back that way,” Eira motioned toward the ugly gargoyles. “That’s where I was going, anyway. You can follow me out if you’d like.”

The look it gave her made it clear exactly how much trust it had for her. That was just fine; she did not trust it, either. And yet she had just offered to help it out of this miserable cave – its prison, now that she thought about it, for surely this hole in the ground could be nothing else. Even better, she had offered to have her back to it the whole way out.

“Okay,” the vampire looked thoroughly sickened at the thought of following a stranger through that blackness, but it agreed anyway. Eira wanted to ask it if it was sure, but held her tongue. All she had to do was lead it to safety. Then it would let her go. Probably.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Eira forced herself to march toward the darkness. Just as she passed Serana, its hand came up toward her arm. It didn’t touch her, but sort of loomed out of reach. “Hey, um. Thanks. For letting me out of there.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Eira wondered if she should thank it for not chewing on her when it had the chance. She elected to keep silent, lest it revisit the decision.

Off into the blackness she walked, marking the soft footsteps of Serana behind her. It sounded like she was a good distance back. Good. She was already regretting not making it walk in front.

The cavern’s natural light, now joined by the purple light of the torches, provided enough illumination to keep her from falling off a cliff, but not much more. Eira shifted her bow uncomfortably and set an arrow to the string. It looked like they would have to move past the gargoyles to reach another crumbling bit of stonework that hopefully led outside. Eira carefully began padding up the steps.

A gloved hand caught her arm and caused her heart to abruptly stop beating.

“Those aren’t statues.”

How the hell had it gotten right behind her so quickly? She managed what she hoped was a suave nod and trained her bow on the nearest gargoyle. As soon as she had sighted her arrow on the motionless beast, it exploded, revealing a living creature that had been hiding beneath the stone façade.

Bits of rock showered her as she crouched and sighted again on where the beast had been standing a moment before. It was still there, having apparently only blown off a fine layer of stone, but now it was roaring and flailing like a thing possessed. Eira’s bow twanged, sending a shaft straight into its gaping maw as it charged. She failed to suppress a cocky grin as it dropped to the floor. There were few things in life she was very good at, but archery was one of them. As she was drawing another arrow, the second statue exploded. It charged the same as the first, lowering its head and howling for all it was worth. She drew the arrow back until the fletching brushed her chin.

Then it was dead.

Eira blinked and squinted at the corpse. Sure enough, buried in the throat of the great beast was an icicle as tall as Eira and thicker than her arm. Serana was standing a few steps below her and sporting a satisfied grin of its own.

The sight of its fangs in the darkness was more than a little chilling. “Thanks for the warning,” Eira managed.

“I owed you one,” Serana said, brushing past Eira on her up the steps. Ominous little bitch. She was starting to like it.

Eira followed dutifully, watching the shadows where Serana was not. It wasn’t long before she was leading again, Serana lagging behind and occasionally passing a hand over her eyes. Neither of them spoke but it was clear was still shaking off whatever had happened inside that box. On the bright side, they both seemed content to leave one another breathing. They may have been quiet, brooding, and distrustful, but they were at least being civil. For Eira’s part, it was a question of gratitude. Serana could have killed her, or let her die at the hands of that gargoyle, but it had not.

It could be Serana felt the same way, assuming it felt anything at all. It had said it was locked away down here, so it was probably grateful to be back in the world of the living. Or the world of the undead, as the case may be. But that did not mean Eira had to be comfortable around her. She was not comfortable around anyone anymore.

She was busy shoving those bad memories out of her mind as they reached the top of the steps and entered another crumbling room. In front of them were two staircases up to a second floor, clearly the only way forward. From what little of the second floor Eira could see, she counted easily a dozen coffins standing against the walls. She raised her bow and kept it pointed up the stairs as she climbed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her vampire companion gliding silently up the steps to watch the other side of the room. As they reached the top, every coffin in the room burst open simultaneously, and a small horde of angry undead came barreling toward them.

Eira snapped an arrow off and had her sword drawn even before the shaft caught one of the skeleton warriors in the skull, sending the reanimated bones skidding across the floor. A flash of blue light from her right made her jump back in surprise. She watched stupidly as three of the reanimated skeletons shattered after being skewered by ice spikes. There was just enough time for her to give the vampire a surprised look before the bulk of the dead were on them. Eira ducked a clumsy swing from a rusty sword and cut down one of the assailants. As she engaged a second, she watched as Serana incinerated another small group of them with the flick of her wrist.

Ducking to avoid another wild swing, she knocked the legs out from under her attacker and moved back toward the vampire. Serana was clearly powerful, but not infallible. As it snapped off a lightning bolt to send a draugr flying down the stairs, Eira threw her dagger just over its shoulder to catch another draugr in the throat. The vampire spun, surprise etched on its face as she watched the creature return to death.

Two more draugr fell to Eira’s blade as Serana burned another three to cinders. Not to be outdone, Serana spun to face her, palm outstretched. A fireball sped so close to her face she could swear she lost her eyebrows. Whipping her head around to follow its flight, she watched the lower half of a skeleton clatter to the floor just behind her. The upper half was nowhere to be seen, and only ashes drifted to the floor.

The room went silent. Eira turned to face her companion, not sure of what to say.

“Thanks,” she managed.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied coolly. Eira almost laughed. Goddamn smartass.

Serana appeared to be sizing her up as it stood there, arms folded across its chest. They did not make a bad pair, and Serana had to know it. Still, the way it had dispatched so many of those monsters without breaking a sweat made her wonder what exactly she was leading out into the world.

She walked over to retrieve her dagger, giving Serana a wide berth. The pile of bodies it had created, as well as the large pile of ashes, spelled out what Serana was fairly clearly; something Eira did not want to piss off. Serana led the way as they left the room, Eira following at a comfortable distance. She just had to survive a little longer. Then she could release this unholy abomination on the surface of Tamriel and go about her daily life.

In answer to her prayers, the far side of the room shone with the light of day. Eira nearly started running at the sight before pausing to look over this last obstacle between her and freedom. The pair had emerged on the top level of a great arena, the center of which dominated the hollow and was presided over by the biggest, ugliest draugr Eira had ever seen. The bloody thing must have been eight feet tall and held a battleaxe like a butterknife. Serana stalked out to one side, Eira to the other. With any luck, they could take this thing down without having to actually hop down and grapple with it in the sand like gladiators.

Eira watched as the monster fixated on Serana, its helm swiveling to follow it as the vampire crept along the edge of the chamber. The monster was wearing heavy armor, so Eira took her time in setting an arrow and aiming for what she hoped was a weak point beneath the shoulder. If it just stayed focused on Serana and didn’t notice her, they would be out of here in no time.

It did notice her. Just as she was drawing her arrow back, she heard it begin muttering something in its ancient tongue. Before she could loose her shot, it spun toward her, pale eyes shining and a blast of freezing air exploding from its decaying lips.

She should have known it was a Shout. Eira dove to the side, tumbling down the uneven steps of the arena and into the fighting ring below. Managing to at least roll with her fall, Eira landed in a crouch, bow still in hand as she searched for her target.

Serana had not missed the chance to pepper the big bastard with ice spikes but it did not seem to know when to die. Eira watched as it bounded over the arena benches and swung that jet-black battleaxe in an impossible two-handed arc, shattering the stone seat where Serana had been a moment before. The vampire’s jump carried it down into the fighting pit to join Eira, though it managed the descent with much more grace than she had. The draugr turned slowly, grinding its axe along the stone as it did. Eira saw her chance and took it.

The arrow went zipping straight toward the draugr’s eyes, only to skip off its helmet as it jerked ot the side just in time. Eira swore fluently, readying another arrow as quickly as she could. Before she could, the draugr raised on of its hands at Eira and sent an ice spike tearing toward her. It was all she could do to get out of the way. More spikes sent her scrambling across the ground, rolling and skidding to avoid being nailed to the floor. Serana was busy throwing spell after spell at the angry draugr in a bid to distract it but the damn thing was hell-bent on killing Eira.

A momentary lull in the barrage let her regain her balance and go for another arrow. The draugr surprised her then, lifting its battleaxe and hurling it right at Eira’s midsection. She hesitated, and that was the end. She saw a glimmer of it in the light as it spun toward her. She tried to drop below it but knew in her heart it was about to cut her in half.

Serana slammed into her from the side, tossing her out of the path of the axe. Eira hit the floor and skidded to a halt, frantically trying to regain her feet. Sprawled next to her was the vampire, its boots kicking at the floor as it scrambled to stand.

Before it could, the draugr hit the floor with such force that all of Skyrim must have thought there was an earthquake. Having lost its battleaxe, it came at her with a spell in each hand, freezing air falling between its dead fingers. Just as Eira managed to draw her sword and dagger, one of those hands raised and sent another spike, this one the size of a child, right at Eira’s chest.

She moved without thinking, dodging the spike and closing the gap between them. More spikes came whistling through the air and Eira danced crazily to avoid them. Sidestepping another shot, Eira threw her dagger, sending it zipping into the throat of the behemoth.

That got its attention. It staggered for a moment, just long enough for Eira to close that last bit of distance, sliding across the floor to hamstring the monster. As it crashed to one knee, it put all it had into one last blast of ice that should have taken Eira in the head. But Eira was too quick. The last spike passed over her head as she twisted beneath its outstretched arm and thrust her sword through its chin. The point crunched as it punctured the steel helmet, emerging from the top of the monster’s head.

Silence. Silence broken by the sounds of ragged breathing, but silence.

Eira straightened, not even attempting to remove her sword. She watched as the perverse glow left the beast’s eyes and it toppled to the floor in a heap. The way her sword was, Eira had no illusions about getting it back, but she could at least leave here with her dagger. She reached around the massive ice spikes still lodged in the draugr’s chest and yanked it free, grateful that she had been dodging the monster’s spells and not Serana’s.

_Serana._

Eira whirled to where she had been tackled and saw the vampire still lying on her side, on foot kicking feebly at the sand. She could hear it groaning in pain. She rushed to its side, not sure whether she should hope for a mortal wound or a paper cut.

She got neither. The gash across Serana’s abdomen looked like it could be fatal, but it was not beyond healing. Tears were streaming down Serana’s face from the pain. The sight stirred something in Eira, the same something that had made her offer to lead it out of this place, and the same thing that made Eira catch it before it hit the ground.

She grabbed the wound with one hand, moving Serana’s hands out of the way with the other, and did her best to knit the flesh back together. It let out a cry as she did, crushing Eira’s free hand in an inhumanly strong grip. She could swear she heard her bones breaking, but she knew this was nothing compared to what Serana would be going through.

After what felt like hours, Eira removed her hand to examine her work. Serana’s grip softened as she did and lucidity began to creep back into those demonic orange eyes. She let her gaze linger elsewhere, ashamed that she had ever considered leaving Serana behind. That axe would have cut her in two, but it – no, she – had saved her, almost at the cost of her own life.

Eira hoisted Serana’s arm over her shoulder and started hobbling toward the exit. Death, it seemed, had more than earned her help today.


	2. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana tries to get a feel for the world around her and for the woman who rescued her. Eira comes to terms with owing a vampire her life.

Eira set Serana down outside the cave, leaning her up against the face of the mountain. She made sure to pick a shady spot. It would not do to have her cook in the sun after all the trouble she went through to get her out here. Eira sank down beside her, soaking up the sunlight and enjoying it enough for the both of them.

She had not been able to heal the wound fully but it had been enough to keep Serana alive. Eira wiggled her pack out from under her and fished for the last of her healing potions. She would not be sorry to see it go. With distinct flavorings of sawdust, dirt, and blood, they were decidedly unpleasant. A vampire might even enjoy it.

Eira nudged Serana’s elbow and offered it to her. Serana did not need convincing, swiping the bottle from Eira’s hand and downing it like she had not had a drink in centuries. As Eira watched the red liquid drain away, she wondered how close to the mark that actually was. The empty bottle thumped into the snow between them in a matter of seconds.

Her breathing was already slowing and Serana began massaging her forehead as more groans escaped her. The potions may taste bad, but Eira had to give them credit; they worked fast. She let her head fall back against the rock and closed her eyes, satisfied her demonic companion would survive the next few hours.

“Thank you,” a disembodied voice said from beside her. Eira started, realizing she had very nearly drifted off to sleep.

“I owed you _one_ ,” she said easily.

Serana laughed, the sound echoing off the rocks and leaving Eira to wonder if it was more melodic or terrifying. “I think we’re about even now. Let’s never do that again,” Serana said, her voice enthusiastic enough to make Eira chuckle. She had a clever retort about saving vampires from crypts every day, but she had started to drift off again, snow notwithstanding.

“You’re bleeding.”

Count on a vampire to point out an open wound. Eira opened one eye and felt gingerly above the other. Sure enough ,there was a nice gash from where she had knocked her head against the steps during their fight. It did not feel serious, but she was too drained to heal it now. Maybe once she felt up to it, preferably after several months of uninterrupted sleeping. Maybe she could take a turn in that box Serana had fallen out of. That seemed like a nice place to take a nap.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Eira said, feeling around the edges once again to make sure it wasn’t bleeding too badly. “I’ll close it up in a bit.”

“That was the last one, wasn’t it?” Serana asked, nudging the empty bottle in the snow. Eira nodded, and Serana began studying her boots, suddenly fascinated by the leatherwork. “Thanks.”

“You saved my life. It was the least I could do.” Eira rolled her head along the rocks to face Serana. Serana stared at her boots. She was probably mulling over whether or not saving her had been worth it. Not that Eira was any more comfortable. Everything she had done had been on instinct, and instinctively protecting a vampire made her decidedly uncomfortable. Maybe if she appreciated her help, she would kill her quickly.

“I couldn’t just let you die,” Serana said after the silence became unbearable. Eira waited for more of an explanation but none ever came.

_What a mess._

Eira let her gaze wander down the snow-covered mountainside and into the copse of trees below. The smarter half of her wanted to sprint down the slop and try to lose Serana in those trees. The dumber half wanted to stay, and not just because she had taken such a beating for her already. She knew exactly why she wanted to stick around and she hated herself for it. Again she pushed those memories out of her mind, but the sick feeling in her stomach was not so easily dismissed.

They sat in silence for a long time, alone in each other’s company. Eira stared bleakly into the distance, paralyzed by indecision and barely fending off sleep. It was Serana who eventually stood, dusting the snow off her trousers and wandering to the edge of the hill. Eira heard her take a long, deep breath and saw the glint of her smile catching the sunlight.

“You have no idea how good it feels to breathe again. Even in this weather, it’s better than in the cave.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts. It doesn’t always come with such a nice view,” she said with a chuckle. It really was a beautiful sight, so high above the world.

Serana turned to face her. Standing in the shade and framed by the sun, she almost looked human. “What will you do now?”

A smart person would have waited until she had picked out her destination before running like hell in the other direction. Eira was not a smart person. “I don’t know. With those vampires dead, I don’t really have anything to do.”

It was not quite the truth. She had something she needed to do, something she had been working on for the last eight years, but Serana did not need to know about that. She moved the conversation away from herself. “What about you?”

“I need to get home. I wasn’t supposed to be gone this long and I need to figure out what’s going on,” Serana said quickly. She looked surprisingly in-control for someone who had just been flung forward in time. Her eyes narrowed as a thought struck her. “Who is the current High King?”

Eira nearly laughed. “No one. The last one was killed by some up-jumped Jarl who thinks he’s too good for the Empire.” As an Imperial citizen who had spent a large part of her life in Skyrim, Eira had heard both sides of the story. She just happened to side with her homeland in what was surely the bloodiest, stupidest conflict she had ever been unfortunate enough to witness.

Serana cocked her head. “Empire? What Empire?”

“The Empire? Out of Cyrrodil?” Eira said slowly. Serana replied with a blank look and Eira let the matter drop. She looked good for someone coming up on her second millennium of life. “So, where is home, anyway?”

“It’s on an island to the west of Solitude. My family lived there before I was locked away. I’m guessing they still do.”

Eira examined her own boots while thinking it over. She had hoped it would be close enough for Serana to get there on her own, that her protective side would capitulate to common sense. She had hoped, but she was a fool. Still, she probably should have been grateful it was on the same continent. There was nothing for it but to help her out. Again.

Serana cut her off. “Listen, you probably don’t trust me but I don’t know if I can get there on my own. You can handle yourself in a fight and you know more about this era than I do.” Serana spoke quickly, plainly uncomfortable with asking anyone for help. So much so that she never did ask. Eira waited for the words to come out but eventually just smiled and finished the sentence.

“I think I can manage. I still owe you for not killing me on the spot.”

That got Serana to laugh but Eira had actually been serious. She really was grateful that she had spared her life when they met, then saved in several times on the way out. She seemed like a good person. The world had few enough of those, human or vampire.

Eira produced a map from her pack. On it were meticulously scribbled notes about bandit fortifications and movement patterns for much of Skyrim. The area between them and Solitude had few markings, something that hopefully promised a fairly quiet journey. The Empire’s presence in Solitude was a powerful deterrent for bandits in the surrounding hills, and much of the area was covered in a foul-smelling and generally unpleasant marsh.

“What are those markings?”

Eira’s heart lodged itself squarely in her throat. How the hell did she keep sneaking up on her like that? She could not even find any tracks in the snow. Could vampires fly?

Swallowing her innards, Eira explained. “They’re bandit groups. Some hide out in forts, others prowl the roads. Luckily we won’t have to deal with any prowlers this far north. We should only find trouble if we go looking.”

Eira was quite proud of her information on that point. It was good and she had invested a huge amount of time collecting and confirming it. Instead of being rightly impressed by this, Serana pursed her lips and asked questions. “How could you possibly know that?”

“This information is taken from city guardsmen, travelling merchants, and a whole lot of personal experience. It took years, but I promise you, the information is good.” Eira did her best to be patient but Serana was questioning her baby.

Serana’s lips drew to an even finer line as she weighed exactly how much Eira’s word was even worth. After a moment of deliberation, she nodded, apparently satisfied that she was not being led up the garden path. She continued studying the map over her shoulder for a moment longer, probably debating eating Eira and taking the map for her own.

“It looks like we can avoid the marsh and the hideouts if we follow the road,” Serana said, leaning in to sketch a route with her finger.

“Agreed,” Eira chirped, stowing the map carefully in her pack.

Serana straightened and folded her arms. Eira was beginning to know what the look meant. “Is it common for people to carry maps like that in this era?”

Eira answered carefully. She knew where this conversation led. “No, this is one of a kind.”

“So you’re some kind of bandit hunter?”

“Something like that,” Eira said vaguely, closing her pack and getting to her feet.

She looked up to find Serana still sizing her up, her arms still folded. She did not like the answers she was getting and Eira really couldn’t blame her. Looks like that had stopped bothering her a long time ago. It was better than what came after. The few people who knew more of the story always gave her the same looks.

Serana was determined to know more. “Why?”

“Someone has to do it,” Eira said, clinging desperately to her air of mystery.

It was not a personal dislike for her companion that kept her silent – she actually rather liked her – she just did not feel like sharing. Explaining why she hunted bandits all over Skyrim would require her to revisit the happiest days of her life, then detail their abrupt and tragic end.

The next time someone told her time healed all wounds, she would wound them right in the skull.

 

Serana was no fool, and Eira was not exactly being subtle about her personal problems; she sensed a story, and the way Eira avoided her questions just made her even more curious. It sounded like there was something she would rather be doing, but she had agreed to help. Looking in the direction their path would take them, Serana could not help but wonder why the woman was coming along at all.

She could not even get a good read on her, something that frustrated her immensely. Of course Eira was afraid of her, and sometimes that was painfully obvious, but she had protected Serana even knowing what she was. What kind of idiot helped a vampire? That was like hanging a sign around your neck that read “Free Samples.”

Gods, she was hungry.

She looked at the woman next to her, again considering feeding. It would not be the last time she looked and it would not be the last time she restrained herself. Eira was a good woman. She did not deserve it. At least, Serana thought she was a good woman. It was hard to believe they had barely met an hour ago. Being forced to trust a stranger with her life so quickly was nauseating, but having that trust rewarded was almost worst. She was grateful to Eira for saving her, but it would have been so much easier if she had just thrown that knife. Then Serana would have killed her, fed, and been blessedly alone again.

Eira shouldered her pack and turned away to examine the mountainside. Without so much as a backward glance, she started down, leaving Serana to wonder if she should follow her or maker her own way home. She had a very good memory, and the map had shown her a clear route back to her family. She did not even need to kill her. She could just walk away. It would probably be safer for both of them if she did.

She had not gone ten paces before Serana fell in behind her. It was not the smart thing to do, but she could not bring herself to just leave. She felt like she owed her something; maybe an explanation of why she had been locked away in the first place or why she was lugging an Elder Scroll around on her back. Maybe she should just thank her for saving her life again and getting them both to safety.

More likely she was just cursed by a curious nature, one made worse by ages of solitude and a distinct lack of kindness in her life.

She did not want to admit it, but she was also sticking around because Eira interested her. As uncomfortable as it was waking up in her arms, it was decidedly better than waking up in a pool of her own blood. She wanted to know what made Eira the kind of person she was.

Watching her plod along in front of her, longbow hanging casually from her left hand, Serana ticked through the many questions for her. She could easily see her as a vigilante or soldier. The way her cloak blended in with the surroundings no matter where she was standing and the way she looked more at home in the shade of the trees than out in the open were both obvious clues, telling Serana there was far more than common soldier in Eira’s past. More than that, the way she had handled herself in Dimhollow made Serana burn with curiosity. Had she been an assassin? A bodyguard for a king? A sword for hire? She would have made a killing.

Eira stopped to lean her bow up against a tree, seeming for a moment to just be taking in the scenery. Serana walked up beside her just as she raised a hand to that nasty gash on her forehead. Light spilled from Eira’s palm, bathing her face and illuminating her grimace. In moments, it was impossible to tell there had ever been a wound at all.

In that moment, Serana let just one of her questions slip. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“My wife taught me,” Eira said, her voice rough.

“Is she a healer?”

“She was.”

_Oh._

The look of agony that swept of Eira’s face was gone as quickly as it came, but Serana had seen enough. She was at a loss for words, the only ones she could find being utterly useless. “I’m so sorry.”

Eira nodded, staring hollowly at the snow-covered ground. “Me, too,” she murmured. She even managed the ghost of a smile. It was a strained, hollow thing, but it was there, and it was good to see. Without another word, Eira picked up her bow and set out across the hills. Serana followed, sullen and silent, wondering how many invasive questions she could ask before Eira tired of her prodding.

The pair walked for a few more hours before Eira stopped, again without warning, settling against a nearby tree and digging out a bit of food wrapped in a tattered rag. Serana chose a nearby tree and took in the shade. She had missed the fresh air, but the sun was still a right bastard in her mind. She fiddled with her hood, willing it to grow larger and protect her from its rays. She hadn’t dressed for travel when she first come to Dimhollow so long ago. It was a decision she deeply regretted now.

“How are you holding up?”

Serana looked up in surprise to find Eira watching her from her spot in the sun. “I’m fine. The sun isn’t doing me any favors, but I can manage.” She gave one last, futile tug at her hood before giving up.

“There should be a caravan on the road tomorrow; a bunch of travelling merchants making their way out of Solitude. If we’re lucky, we’ll pass them on the road. We can get you a better cloak there.” Eira looked almost disinterested as she spoke and Serana couldn’t tell if she was genuinely concerned or not. She might just not want to be there when Serana finally burst into flame from extended exposure. Not that Serana would blame her either way; the smell would probably be awful.

Serana decided to play it off. “I’m fine. I just need to feed and the sun won’t bother me anymore.”

Very smooth. Eira could not have missed that killing and eating her would solve all of Serana’s problems but she did not react to the idea.

“Well, if you aren’t too picky about who you eat, there should be plenty of bandits where we’re going.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Serana asked, carefully prodding at what was surely another open wound. Feeding people to a vampire was not exactly normal.

“Why would it?”

There was that story again. Knowing she had lost her wife just made Serana more curious. She wanted to know who Eira was and, as heartless as it made her feel, she loved a good tragedy. Eira gathered her gear and stood, signaling an end to the conversation. Serana stood with her and willed herself to keep quiet a while longer.

The rest of the trip was made in complete silence; Eira alone with her past, Serana alone with her questions. She could not bring herself to ask any more. Serana had seen that face before, the one Eira made when she remembered, and Serana knew the pain behind it.

The route Serana had sketched on the map earlier had taken them wide of the nameless fort now sitting placidly on the hilltop in front of them. She found herself wondering if Eira had brought them here for her. They could have easily gone around.

As they approached the outer walls, Eira picked out a route hidden by dense foliage that crept nearly to the ramparts. By now the sun had nearly disappeared and the bandits were no doubt settling in for another dull night. Serana followed Eira as she crept, slow and careful, through the underbrush and emerged not ten feet from the wall. No one had seen them. No one had heard them. Eira worked her way along the wall until the crumbling masonry rose into a tower. Still in total silence, Eira slung her bow across her back and began to climb.

At less than a dozen feet tall, the wall was hardly worth its name. Eira had reached the top by the time Serana had started her climb, hoisting herself over the lip to watch for any sign of an alarm. There was nothing, of course, and she had moved on by the time Serana had lifted herself onto the battlements. Eira’s dagger gleamed in the moonlight as she shouldered her bow and moved off down the wall. Serana slipped along behind her with her own blade held at the ready.

Eira was first into the tower, slipping in with no more than a whisper. Serana scuttled in behind her to find Eira diligently peering through the far door before returning to the center of the room. A pleasant blaze crackled in one of the corners, silhouetting the single bandit that occupied the tower. He might have been able to see the two women coming, assuming he had been awake. Instead, he had pulled up a chair, kicked up his feet, and dozed off on exactly the wrong day.

Serana gave Eira a look as she crossed the room. Eira nodded toward the sleeping bandit and mouthed something. _All yours._

As distasteful as it was, she complied. Creeping up behind the unfortunate man, Serana carefully positioned herself for the kill. Her arms were out to the side just so, her head tilted ever so slightly. She had done this so many times that by now killing was nothing more than a reflex.

He never had a chance. The bandit died in his sleep, passing before making a sound, a vampire feeding on him before he was finished dreaming. Serana fed like a woman starved, though starved barely began to describe it. It had been so long since she had tasted blood. She savored the sharp and biting taste, the warmth she felt as it rushed into her. It felt like it was flowing straight into her veins, like it was bringing her back from the dead. She lost herself in the ecstasy of the fresh kill and thought of nothing but the life it gave her.

The cold stone of the floor was the first thing she felt as her senses slowly returned. When had she fallen? The corpse slid from her arms, pale and almost grotesque as it rolled to the floor. Had she pulled it down with her? She must have. How long had she been there with it? How long had she been feeding? She stood, wiping absently at the blood trailing from her lips. The light of the fire seemed strangely dimmer now and the crackling of wood was softer. Everything seemed more natural.

As reality slowly seeped back in, she realized she was not alone. Eira stood exactly where she had been when the feeding started. Serana turned, trying to see behind her passive expression. No, not passive at all. A slew of emotions hid at the corners of that mask. She was nervous but satisfied. So she had enjoyed watching it happen. But there was discomfort, something Serana felt only natural, and a good deal of fear. Serana knew the woman was not afraid of the bandits, which left perhaps the more sensible fear that now shared the room with her. Regret and rage dueled at the corners of her mouth and eyes. Why could she not just feel one thing at a time? Frustrating little woman.

“Feeling better?” Eira asked pleasantly.

Serana gave her a look she hoped would set her cloak on fire. “Much. Let’s keep moving.”

That earned her a smile and it was not one she enjoyed seeing. The woman actually enjoyed killing. Serana waited until she was out the door before moving to follow, wondering if she had misjudged her rescuer. The urge to feed rushed over her but she fought if off. Barely.

 

Eira led the way across the walls and toward what was left of the keep. Now a great, crumbling ruin, there would only be a few doors not blocked by rubble, and there was only one window with any glass left. These kinds of ruins were her favorites; they made the game too easy.

They descended into the courtyard, silent as shadows and killing as they went. The place was mostly deserted. Those few bandits they did find fell to Eira’s knives or Serana’s appetite, though Eira was unsure which were the lucky ones. She watched as Serana drank her fill from another. The woman seemed a bottomless pit of thirst, but she had been locked away for a very long time. She could imagine her own dry mouth upon waking after a thousand years. She made a note to thank Serana again for not killing her on sight. It must have been sorely tempting.

The more she thought about it, the more impressed she was that Serana had been able to control herself for so long. The way she had taken down that first poor sod was like watching a saber cat take down a deer. Or perhaps more like a drug addict who had not taken a hit in days finally getting his hands on the good stuff. Either way, she was very lucky to be alive.

Into the keep they stole, clearing it of murderers room by room. On the top floor they found what must have been the chieftain’s room. Eira kicked in the door to find a massive Orc that greeted them with a slack-jawed stare and an enormous broadsword. Eira put an arrow in one of his knees before he could react. He toppled to the floor, his helmet rolling from his head as he tried to grasp his sword. Serana was on him before he could move, pinning him to the floor and ending his misery with her fangs.

Eira stalked around the room as Serana fed. One door, easily barred with all the junk that had been collected in here, and one window, the only one with glass, easily watched by either herself or her hungry vampire. Even ignoring the bed and dining table, it was the ideal place to set up camp for the night. She set her bow down on the tabletop and began stuffing her pack with food. It was not like the poor Orc was going to need it anymore.

The hapless thing had stopped writhing and the wound in his knee had stopped bleeding. Serana pulled herself off him and turned away, walking slowly toward the window at the far side of the room. She actually looked human after all that blood. Her eyes no longer shone like beacons and her skin had regained its color. She was strikingly beautiful.

Why was she staring at her?

Eira stopped pilfering the table and turned to face her. “Something wrong?”

“What happened to your wife?”

She bit back her anger at the blunt question. It wasn’t Serana’s fault. She did not understand why Eira had slaughtered those bandits, why she had let them be eaten like they were nothing more than animals. She did not understand that, to Eira, they were nothing more than animals.

Eira remembered to breathe and tried to calm down. “She was murdered,” she said slowly, hoping Serana would just let it drop. But people seemed to love a sad tale, and Serana was no exception.

“How did it happen?”

Eira almost snapped again but managed to shake it off. She had not slept in days. She was hungry, worn-down, nearly at the end of her tether, and it was taking its toll on her. She tried to go easy on Serana. “Why does it matter?”

“The way you killed those people –“

“Those weren’t people.” Eira regretted it as soon as she said it.

Serana stood there expectantly, waiting for her to relive the worst moments of her life to satisfy her idle curiosity. She should have just left her in that cave. Eira stewed for a long while but Serana was plainly not going to give up. And she had saved Eira’s life. Maybe Eira owed her something of an explanation.

“Eight years ago, my wife was murdered by bandits. She was my whole life. I didn’t have anything left after she died, so now I hunt them. I kill them wherever they are so they can’t hurt anyone like they hurt her.”

It sounded strange saying it out loud. It was the truth, but it was so short. So much of her life had come out of those small hours and that handful of words was enough to say exactly what it was she cared about in the world. Her life’s purpose should have been more prosaic. But at least Eira had admitted to it.

Serana’s face was impassive and she looked like she was waiting for more. The callous bitch could at least have been sympathetic and left her alone about it. “There’s more to it than that,” she challenged.

“You want me to describe it to you?!” Eira bolted to her feet, her hand going for her dagger without thinking. Serana immediately conjured a fireball in her free hand and backed away. “Do you want me to tell you how they tortured her? Where I found her body? How long we were together before they took her from me?”

Serana flinched, her shoulders going slack even as the fire in her hand refused to die. Eira stood perfectly still. This was wrong. Maybe Serana shouldn’t have asked but she certainly shouldn’t be standing here ready to start a fight over it. Very slowly, her hand came away from the hilt of her knife. Serana didn’t move. Eira knew how this must look. She looked like a murderer and right now she looked like one with a very short temper. She looked to the floor, ashamed. They were both clearly out of their depth here.

“I don’t know how to explain it to you,” Eira began. “She meant the world to me and now she’s gone. I don’t know how anyone can fill a void like that. I tried forgetting, but in the end I just got angry. I decided I had to hunt down the man who killed her. He has to pay for what he did. Even if it kills me. The things they did to her…”

Serana, the curious undead bitch who had pried so carelessly into her life, was now wearing a mask of pity. Eira wanted to be angry at her for digging up those memories, but she knew the look Serana was wearing. It meant she had been there.

“You don’t need to explain. I understand,” Serana whispered, and Eira hoped she was not sincere.

Serana fell back against the wall, the fire in her hand fading and her gaze turning to the world outside. She looked exhausted and miserable. Eira found herself missing the vampire. She would have rather been facing the undead horror than the poor girl now sharing the room.

As Serana lost herself in her own thoughts, Eira began to wonder what had happened to her. She was nothing if not surprising. The way she was slumped against the wall, the weight of the world on her shoulders, made Eira want to start asking questions of her own. She found herself wanting to take the pain away. Even if Serana had not known better, Eira did, and she kept quiet.

“Just as long as you aren’t planning on knifing me in the back,” Serana quipped, the corner of her mouth twitching in a bootless attempt at smiling. “I’m sorry.”

Eira put on her own forced smile. “Don’t worry. I try not to kill people who save my life.”

As pathetic as it was, that seemed to get Serana to relax. She shifted herself against the wall, growing comfortable and studying Eira from across the room. Well, if she was wondering if Eira was a raving lunatic, at least she was not ready to burn her alive. And, to be honest, Eira was wondering about herself ever since Serana had fallen into her arms.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Eira finally asked.

That took Serana by surprise. After a moment of exploring her own motives, she answered. “I’d been out of the world a long time. It didn’t seem right to come back and kill the sort of person who would catch me instead of letting me fall.”

Eira got to her feet and walked over to the window, leaning against the wall opposite Serana. Serana stayed where she was, studying her with those big, orange eyes that now seemed so human. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to talking about my wife with anyone. I know that makes it harder to trust me, but I promise I will get you home safely, Serana. Even if you don’t trust me to do it.”

It was not much for inspiring confidence, but it was all she had. Eira turned her gaze back to the outside world. It was a very strange place, the world. Here she stood, within arm’s reach of a vampire, and she was not worried at all. Her only fear was that she would keep prying at her past, dragging Eira back over and over again to relive that one terrible night.

And there she sat, boring into the side of her skull with that stare as though the rest of the tale would fall out if she concentrated hard enough. Eira had to admit that she wanted to learn about Serana just as badly. The look she had given her moments ago, the miserable exhaustion, came from understanding. She knew what Eira had gone through without being told.

It was strange to think her impulse to catch her had led to them walking halfway across Skyrim just hours after meeting. If Serana was telling the truth, it was very possible that catching her had saved Eira’s life.

Serana’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. “This is a good place to set up camp for the night.”

Eira gave the room another glance, taking inventory once again. “I didn’t think you’d want to stop so soon. Aren’t you more at home in the dark?”

“I am, but you’re not. How long has it been since you slept?”

Aw, she did care. “A while.”

Serana actually smirked at that. “I’ll take first watch. Get some rest.”

Eira nodded, ignoring the fact that she had just agreed to sleep in the same room as a vampire. Then again, she had been steadily ignoring the context of her actions for the better part of the day, so she saw no reason to stop now.

Massaging her brow, she moved to the bed, wrapping herself in her cloak and trying to get comfortable on the straw while still looking dignified. She kept her bow and sword within easy reach even if she saw little point in doing so. If something happened, Serana would hear it coming a mile away. Or Serana would be the one killing her, in which case it would matter even less.

“A few hours,” Eira said, catching Serana’s eye as she settled down to sleep. “You need your rest, too.”

That seemed to amuse her. “Go to sleep.”

Eira drifted off quickly, her thoughts turning to memories of her wife. If she was going to die tonight, she wanted her last thoughts of the happiest days of her life, not of how they ended. She was almost tired enough to believe she would dream of her and of how she was in those golden days. It was almost enough to make her believe that she would see the woman she loved again before that horrible night. It was almost enough, but Eira knew better.

 

It began as it always did; with Eira stepping over the dead. She had stopped seeing them as bandits or even as people after so long. Now they were just part of the dream. They were nothing more than mounds of brown and red that cast weird shadows in the light of her torch. Her boot would catch one on the shoulder, rolling him over with a dull thud, before she reached the stairs.

The air was so stale it threatened to choke her. She could feel her lungs burning. It was like breathing with a thick cloth draped over her mouth. The walls felt like they were closing in around her. She was sure she would hit her head on the ceiling, that the stairs would swallow her up when she went down. She went down anyway. Her wife was down there. She knew it. She knew it and still she went. She could not stop herself. Nothing could stop her, not back then and not in the dream.

Water dripped hollowly from the walls and pooled on the steps. Eira saw her torch sparking in those pools as she went down. She saw it in her sword, too, though it was muted and red. Down and down she climbed for what felt like an eternity. It always felt that way here, like her mind was trying to drag things out until the very moment she woke.

Then she heard it. From the depths of the ruin, where the light never reached, she could hear her sobbing. The strongest, bravest woman Eira had ever known, and she was broken. She could hear it in every haggard breath. Eira began to run. She felt her throat start to burn again. She was shouting. The words echoed as though from a great distance but her throat screamed with every breath she took. Her wife was down there, and Eira screamed herself hoarse just so she could hear her. That would make it all better. If she could just hear Eira’s shouts, she would know she was safe. She would be all right.

At last the stairs stopped coming and Eira emerged fully in the blackness of Oblivion itself. Nothing could live down here. No light had ever touched these walls. It was here that her wife had been left to die. Alone and cold and afraid. Eira shouted for her. She could hear the sobs coming closer now. It would not be long. It would all be over soon.

Eira ran into the dark, charging it, challenging it. This time it would yield. It would give her back the woman she loved.

It always did. At last, Eira saw her. She saw everything. How they had broken her, how they had left someone so pure and perfect in a place that did not care about her. They left her to be forgotten. Eira felt her sword fall away. She felt her knees scrape the stone as she threw herself beside what had once been the most beautiful woman in the world. She tried to tell her it was okay. Light spilled from her hands as she tried to take all her pain away.

But that was not how the dream ended. Eira felt it coming. She knew she was dreaming and still she could not help it. She fought and screamed and pleaded just as she had back then. Just as she did every night. Just as she would the next night. She would come here again and watch her whole life slip away because she could not save her. She had been too late. No matter how hard she tried, it was always the same. She was always too late.


	3. A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira walks Serana home

Eira knew as soon as she woke that she had overslept. Her eyes snapped to the window and when she found it empty, she wondered if she had scared Serana off the night before. Pushing herself to the edge of the bed, she found Serana sitting at the table, her back pushed against the wall and one leg draped lazily along the bench. Ashamed she had not woken for her watch, Eira made an intense study of the floor as she got to her feet.

Her throat was tight just as it was every morning. Trying to clear it helped little. It had not gotten any easier over the years and the only thing that helped was to wait, to let it go numb once again as the day wore on. Serana watched as Eira pretended to gather her things and worked to confine her emotions to a small box deep inside her chest. Why had she let her sleep so long?

“You needed the rest,” Serana said, reading her thoughts.

“So did you,” Eira replied lamely.

“I think I’ve slept enough for a while,” Serana said lightly.

She did have a point. Eira smiled. “I’m sure you have.” She swiped a few more bits of food off the table, peered out the window to make sure the courtyard was still quiet, and made for the door. Serana still lounged on her bench, raising an eyebrow when Eira stopped halfway to the door. “Thanks.”

It came out shorter than she had intended. She really did appreciate what Serana was doing, both in letting her sleep and in sticking around. Serana gave her a sweet smile, and if Eira had not already known, she would never have guessed she was anything but human. “You needed it.”

Eira needed to stop seeing her as a vampire. Serana had earned that much and more. It was uncomfortable, trusting someone again, especially someone without a pulse, but Serana had not abused the privilege. Seeing her as a person was the least Eira could do for her. Even if Eira had wanted so badly to be woken from her nightmare, Serana had meant well in letting her sleep.

They left the ruins together and started again on the path to Solitude. Just as her map had promised, their trip was blessedly uneventful. The only excitement came a few hours into the first day when a small caravan appeared on the horizon. Eira had not expected to find them so easily after their unexpected detour into bandit country. Better still, having fed so recently, Serana looked human enough to walk right up to the caravan leader, pawing her way through his wares the same as anyone else.

After a small eternity they moved on, Eira grumbling about the extortion she had just been subjected to. Serana offered to go back and have a word with him, claiming she was hungry, and Eira very nearly agreed; she had lost a lot of gold back there. Instead, she unfolded a bundle from under her arm and tossed it to her. It was a jet-black cloak of exquisite make; heavy enough to keep out the cold but still light enough to not be a burden. Serana gave her a rather pointed look.

“You weren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” Eira said with a shrug.

Serana’s look turned dry. “That’s it?”

“You might look human now but I can tell you’re still struggling with the sun,” Eira explained. “And I didn’t know vampires got cold.”

“We aren’t corpses, you know. And how did you know I was cold?”

Eira hunched over, clutching her arms over her stomach dramatically. “So you always walk like this?”

Serana gave her a look that would have frozen a lesser woman’s blood; it only froze most of Eira’s. She let it drop before it could freeze the rest, unfurling the garment and draping it over her shoulders. “It is a nice cloak,” Serana said, running her hands admiringly along the fur. “Thank you.”

“Just remember how nice it is the next time you’re feeling hungry.”

“I think this bought you some time,” Serana said airily as she flipped her hood up. “Some matching gloves wouldn’t have hurt, though, and it would have looked lovely with a silver broach.”

Eira shook her head. “Can’t I just give you my money now and you can agree not to eat me later?”

“I suppose that works. How much is your life worth these days?”

Eira palmed the coin purse hanging from her belt. “Not so much, it seems.”

Serana gave her a very sad look. “Better walk fast, then.”

Eira laughed and hoped to the Gods she was joking. While Eira did not relish the thought of climbing over the mountains, trekking along the coast, and presumably rowing out to sea in order to find Serana’s family, she would rather be footsore than dead. And it looked surprisingly likely that she would survive this little excursion. That meant she could get back to work, doing whatever it was she did for a living.

They spent the rest of the day in pleasant silence, occasionally broken to talk of small things if only to pass the time. Eira told Serana of the political conflict in Skyrim and a bit of the Empire’s history that she had learned from growing up in the heart of the Imperial dominion. Her knowledge was pitiful but Serana did not seem to mind. She was probably just happy to listen and get a feel for what kind of future she had found herself in. It even came up that Eira had been hired by vampire hunters to raid Dimhollow. She had sworn up and down that she was not interested in killing vampires just for the sport, but Serana had not really seemed to care anyway. She reacted well, though by now Eira had made it abundantly clear that Serana was in no danger from her.

Every now and then, Eira’s curiosity would get the better of her. She would fish for details about Serana’s past, about the Elder Scroll she carried, or even something as innocent as where she had gotten that dagger of hers. Every time she stonewalled her. Not that Eira blamed her, but she could not help herself. She wanted to know more about Serana, just like Serana wanted to know more about her.

It was a bad combination, and as they drew nearer to Serana’s home, Eira made up her mind that it would be best if they never saw each other again.

 

Eira grumbled and cursed as she dragged the rowboat up the shore, plopping it down in the sand when she was satisfied it was not going anywhere. Serana stood a few paces further up the beach, facing what Eira could only describe as a vampire’s dream home. Black as night and taller than any keep in Skyrim, it looked like something out of a storybook. She walked up beside Serana and did her best not to stare stupidly.

She was unsuccessful. “That’s it?” she managed.

“Yeah, home sweet castle,” Serana said, plainly amused by her reaction to the family estate.

“What, they didn’t have any big ones?”

“We wanted to keep a low profile.”

“Good work. I would have sailed right by it if you hadn’t pointed it out.” As sarcastic as she was being, Eira might very well have missed it on a moonless night. The towers were a truly unnatural black.

Serana’s quiet laughter died quickly as the two stood in the shadow of the castle, staring up at the gatehouse. Serana seemed to be wrestling with her own personal demons and Eira was in no hurry either. If Serana’s family was as powerful as she was, Eira had no desire to be anywhere near them. Serana had spared her life but that said nothing for the rest of her family. She might have some ravenous half-brother that she had not told Eira about.

What the hell was she even doing here?

Eira actually knew exactly what she was doing here; Serana was a friend, and something in that castle was giving her pause. Whatever it was, Eira was not about to let her face it alone. Not that she would face it with her, per se. She would simply encourage Serana to run away when she did.

“Ready to go?” Eira asked, praying for a no.

“I don’t know,” Serana murmured. She almost looked scared. That terrified Eira more than anything else.

“Are you all right?”

Serana smiled nervously as she looked to Eira. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just not sure I want to be here right now.”

“You and me both.”

That got her to laugh. “You could always get back in the boat.”

“I’d never hear the end of it if I did,” Eira said with a sigh. The journey had not brought back Serana’s vampire appearance but her eyes had begun to shine again. Eira should probably have thought it strange that their glowing did not bother her anymore. She gave Serana a smile. “Besides, I told you I’d get you home safe. So, here we are.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to walk me to the door,” Serana said wryly.

“No, but you’re worried about something behind it. I didn’t come all this way to leave you in more danger than I found you.”

Serana turned her attention on the sand at their feet. “It’s nothing like that. I’m not in any danger, just… my father and I don’t really get along. I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing him again.”

Eira nodded as she trailed off. There was plenty of history there, but clearly she did not feel like sharing. Secrets and sarcasm were their common ground, after all. When she did not elaborate, Eira hefted her bow. “Well, whatever happens in there, you’ve got at least one friend on your side.”

She had meant it as a joke and had fully expected Serana to take advantage of the boast, but she actually seemed comforted by it. She looked up at Eira with a smile, and for the first time, she noticed how small Serana really was. “Thank you,” she said, looking for all the world like a girl Eira had just saved from a dragon. “For getting me this far. I don’t know if I would have gotten here alone.”

Eira chuckled. “You would have been fine. It’s me who would have been in trouble. I never would have found my way out of that crypt if you hadn’t been there.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Serana chirped. Eira grinned, happy to be out of the role of savior and back to potential midnight snack. Dependence did not suit the vampire sorceress.

Serana turned back to the castle and began chewing her lip. She quickly caught herself and stopped, but she failed to notice her fingers picking at the fur lining her cloak. Eira did her best not to think the situation through and tried to focus on anything else. This waiting around was killing her. She should not even be here.

She wanted to run to the door, push Serana through, and make a run back to the boat. But that meant leaving Serana. Maybe she would come with her. They could row for Skyrim and go their separate ways, never coming back to this place again.

Or maybe Eira would finally die here, murdered by Serana’s family as she walked through the doors. That would not be so bad.

The last thought disturbed her. She had not felt it strongly in years, but being around Serana and her questions had brought it out again. It was not an easy feeling to describe. It was like she was standing over their bed again, and her wife was reaching up, gently pulling her down among the blankets. She could feel her arms sliding around her shoulders, her hair falling across her cheek, her breath warming her neck as she fell. Eira felt like she had been awake for centuries. It would have been so easy just to fall, to be with her wife again. She would have done anything to lie beside her one more time. She could just fall.

Serana was staring at her again. Eira turned, expecting her to ask about her wife again.

She said nothing. Her eyes held not curiosity, only kindness. Sympathy.

At that moment, Eira knew she was going to walk her into the heart of the keep and then back out again if anyone tried to harm her. She also knew she was going to miss her. It felt good, having a friend again, even if she was never going to see her again.

Eira smiled slowly. “Shall we?”

Serana smiled back, and they started toward the blackened towers.


	4. A Castle and a Fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana tries to adjust to life in Castle Volkihar after Eira's departure. Eira takes her leave of the Dawnguard.

Serana drummed her fingers idly along the cracked spine of a book. It had been sitting open on her lap for several hours but she could not have recalled the title had she tried. She was far too distracted to read.

Her father had been his usual self when she had returned. His first question had been about his precious Elder Scroll, which now sat neglected against the side of her chair. Then he had tried to convince Eira to become a vampire, an offer she had thankfully refused. Part of her had wanted Eira to accept just to have someone new and friendly around the castle, but she was glad for how it had turned out. No one should be forced to witness the petty lives lead by her father’s sycophants. Having Eira around would have been just as embarrassing as it would have been comforting.

She looked scornfully out over the main hall. She had an excellent view from her balcony, not that she particularly wanted to see what was happening. Old faces milled about, forever scheming their way to power, doomed to repeat centuries upon centuries of failures. New ones fell in line with the old, soon to be wasted in the same, tired schemes that had played out a thousand years before.

_Pathetic._

Not that the alternative was any better. Her father had a grand design for all vampires, a shift in the balance of power so monumental that the gods themselves would take notice.

_And put him back in the ground, if there is any justice._

She winced at her own anger. She didn’t want him dead, she wanted him back.

_And a unicorn would be nice, too._

Tossing the book on to a nearby table, she stood and started walking. There was nowhere she wanted to go, but it felt good to move around. Restlessness was not something she was familiar with. Tomorrow had always been there, and would always be, exactly the same as today. The race against time that mortals faced every day was unknown to her. She blamed her imprisonment for this new discomfort.

And Eira. This was at least partially her fault.

She absentmindedly thumbed at the cloak she had given her. It was too warm for the castle, but she liked having it close at hand. It made her feel more comfortable, knowing that she could just bolt out the front gate at a moment’s notice. Not that she would, but the idea made her feel warm and fuzzy. Adventuring suited her.

Her thoughts drifted as she wound her way through the empty halls. It had not taken long for her to get adjusted to her life at home in this new future. Her family, it turned out, was remarkably slow-moving when no one was looking.

Before she had been sealed away, her father had come across a prophecy that spoke of killing the sun. Completely ridiculous, of course, but it had taken him in and eventually consumed him. Now, instead of a father, she had a zealot. Those idle lines of fancy had ripped her family apart, driving her father insane and her mother with him. Thinking about it made her sick.

She missed her mother. Before, she would have told her about her adventure across Skyrim and asked her about how to handle her newfound curiosity toward the outside world. Now her mother was gone, hiding from the murderous rage of her father.

That, she recalled, had happened in the blink of an eye. Almost overnight her mother and father had gone from bickering parents to the bitterest of enemies. Why couldn’t that have taken a few centuries?

On and on she walked. She was conscious that something was shadowing her, but was unconcerned by it. Someone’s childish bid for favor, no doubt. It was always the same thing, here. Eat. Scheme. Sleep. She was nurturing more dark thoughts about her father’s court when the man himself came striding down the hall like he was a god. He probably thought he was, after all this time working toward a world where vampires ruled. The vampire messiah glided toward her and she swallowed the ball of hate and resentment begging to be let loose.

“Father.”

The greeting was formulaic and largely for her own benefit. He was not her father anymore, he was Lord Harkon. She wished her father was still there, and a childish part of her still believed he was, but in her heart she knew those days were over. It made her want to scream.

“Serana, my daughter,” he drawled, dragging out each syllable as though the longer they stayed in the air, the more she would believe he was sincere. She wondered how he thought of her. Was she still his little girl? Did he even remember those days?

He stopped in front of her like he had something to say. She wanted to just walk by him. Looking at him brought up centuries of pent-up anger all at once. But her self-control was a point of pride, so she stopped with him, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“It is good to have you back,” he intoned. “I was worried your mother’s treachery would steal you away from me forever.”

She wondered how long he had been rehearsing that one line. He probably thought he was being nice, expressing joy at having his daughter back.

“It’s good to be home, father,” she lied. Home was gone, and even she could not turn back time.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Serana. You enjoyed your time in the wilds. If you wish to return, I would be happy to send some of my people with you,” his smile was making her vaguely nauseated.

“Thank you, father,” she smiled, not even needing to force it. The idea of being outside, free and alone, was more than enough to make her happy. “But I can take care of myself.”

“I lost you once, Serana. I will not risk it again,” he said softly, and she nearly believed the father she remembered was speaking to her.

Then she saw his gaze dart from her to the Elder Scroll. _Bastard._

“Are you worried about me or the Scroll?” she snapped, not caring what the answer was. Self control be damned, she just needed to vent.

“You are my daughter, Serana, but that Scroll represents the salvation of our people,” her father answered, his voice rising in anger.

“One vague prophecy won’t change anything! Even if there is a shred of truth to it, the humans will tear you apart before the year is out.”

Her father laughed - no, cackled, the sound echoing off the walls in a maniacal chorus all around them. The sound made her step back and stare at the lunatic as he shook with mirth. “Oh, Serana, so like your mother. You choose to see me as idle, burying my head in prophecies that mean nothing.”

She stood her ground. “What do you call it, then?”

“War,” he hissed. “As of this moment, I have no fewer than fifty vampires poised outside every major city in Skryim. When I give the word, when I darken the sky and bring a new world for our people, the entire population of Skyrim will join us. Those who aren’t turned will be thralls, and those who cannot serve will be cattle. In a single, glorious night, we will go from hiding in the shadows to ruling this pathetic land. And then, my daughter, the humans will have their war.”

He calmed himself, straightened his cloak, and gave her a forced smile. She stared him down. “You have a very important role to play in this, Serana. Put aside the hatred your mother has planted within you, and we can make this world our own.”

With that, the man who had once been her father stalked down the hallway and vanished around a corner. She stared after him for a long time. What if he was right? Wasn’t that the perfect world? She returned to her wandering. She thought about her family, about the vampires she had met over the years. Didn’t they deserve their moment on top?

She thought about Eira, too. She was a good woman who had lost everything. She didn’t deserve that. How many good women were out there who would lose everything for this war? Could she live with that?

And what did he mean, she had an important role? He had never said that before.

She found her way to one of the many rooms her father had assembled for his research. It was more of a nook, but that did not do justice to the staggering amount of knowledge contained within it. Bookshelves lined the little room, each one holding easily one hundred books, and there were dozens of shelves. Tomes lay open on and around the single table, splayed out crazily from the last time her father had been pouring over them. From the dust on the pages, that had been some time ago.

Serana walked over to the table to examine the books. One had a note scribbled next to it. This turned out to be the prophecy. She should have figured. She looked it over, eyes narrowing as she did. It was longer than it had been. Where had Harkon gotten new information?

The book turned out to be something of a diary, a collection of old Elder Scroll readings from various priests that had shared their findings with the world. The collection was horribly incomplete, either because the priests were not sure of what they saw or because they did not feel like sharing. She understood the power behind keeping the knowledge locked up, so that made the most sense to her.

She read through it, and when she reached the end, she had made up her mind. Harkon wanted a war, so that is exactly what she would give him. _Important purpose? Asshole._ She left the nook and went to the main hall, where she found one of the two most enthusiastic suck-ups in the castle. She sidled up to him and smiled.

“What’s this I hear about the Dawnguard returning?”

 

Sorine had missed her calling as a priestess.

Eira sat in awe of her sermon, captivated by what was very likely an unending list of scenarios where Falmer conquered Skyrim and enslaved or slaughtered its people. Poor Gunmar had been cornered at his forge and was hammering ceaselessly at a breastplate as though it were responsible for all his woes. He had been doing that since before Eira had walked in a few hours ago and Sorine had already started her lecture. She wondered if, had she the courage to get any closer, she would see an enormous hammer-shaped dent in the center of the armor.

It was not as though Sorine was keeping him from anything important; there was very little to do around Fort Dawnguard even on a good day. Isran had been making a big fuss about taking the fight to the vampires but he seemed to be nothing but talk. As far as Eira could tell, the only assault ever mounted on a vampire stronghold had been hers, and that one had ended with her clothing, feeding, and healing a vampire princess before returning her home unharmed. All told, the war against the vampires had sounded much more dramatic before she had gotten involved.

She supposed she could not be too hard on herself. It was not like she actually drank the mead Isran was selling. It had been an alliance of convenience; Eira had needed the location of the scum who had murdered her friends, and Isran needed a fool to go on a suicide mission. But it had turned out all right. It was probably for the best that Eira had been the one to go to Dimhollow. Anyone else would have just skewered Serana where she fell.

Or tried to. Eira smirked. She tried to imagine any of the peasant-soldiers outside going up against Serana. She would probably find a way to laugh them to death. Sorine and Gunmar were the best the Dawnguard had and even they would have been hard-pressed to outfight the lone sorceress. Perhaps that was why nothing ever got done. Isran was trying to build an army out of those more accustomed to battling animal waste with a shovel.

At least they were well-equipped. Eira leaned over to examine her latest toy, courtesy of the Dawnguard. The crossbow had been Sorine’s brainchild. A set of Dwemer schematics recovered from the deepest pits of the world – Eira now began to understand Sorine’s rant about the Falmer – had yielded the blueprints for this mechanical monstrosity. A mess of gears and wires, encased in the deep bronze metalwork that stamped every Dwemer creation, was now the standard vampire-hunting weapon, and what a weapon it was. The Nords had it all backwards. It didn’t matter how big your sword was or how thick your armor was if the other guy had one of these.

Eira hefted the beast, took a moment to aim at one of the targets downrange, and snapped off a bolt. The shot punched clean through the wood, leaving a rather nasty hole where the dummy’s heart would have been. It was accurate, powerful, and took almost no time to learn. Sorine was right to take pride in her work.

It felt strange, robbing the dead of their works. Eira was not sure why. It was not like they were around to complain about it. Maybe it was what they were stealing. The Dwemer had built marvels of machinery – machinery that still ran after centuries of neglect – and this was what they had taken? Something to let men kill each other better? Surely there was something better they could have been doing.

In another life, Eira would have loved the chance to study the inner workings of the crossbows and apply what she learned to everyday life. That was what great men did with their lives. Maybe she should go back, leave this mad quest for vengeance behind and try to help those still alive.

Maybe, but that was not who Eira was. After eight years, giving up on finding revenge would be like trying to breathe underwater or fire her bow with her feet. No reason for living, no matter how noble, would ever convince her to forget what had happened. The thought of anyone else suffering the way her wife had suffered quickly stopped all of those daydreams as surely as a slammed door. She was too angry to stop. Too hateful.

Eira hung her head. It was time to leave.

She walked back to the table and set the crossbow down. She did not feel right robbing Sorine of one of her babies. Her noisy, heavy, clunky babies. Eira could never abandon her longbow for something that garish. There was no finesse in it, no art. She would, however, steal a sword from Gunmar to replace the one she had lost in Dimhollow. Between that and a healthy helping of food from the table, she was ready for the road. With no one to say goodbye to, leaving tended to be quick and easy. Eira happened to like it that way. The Dawnguard were hospitable enough but she could not stay with a group of vampire hunters for long. Not after Serana.

On her way to the front gate, Eira heard boots pounding the stone with enough force to make it shiver. Isran must have been in one of his moods. Someone had probably mentioned vampires around him. The word itself could start a spitting tirade, which was all the more reason for Eira to get a move on.

Sure enough, just as Eira was in sight of the main gate, Isran came barreling around the corner at the far end of the hall. Eira steeled herself to keep from laughing. The vein sticking out of Isran’s bald head looked ready to burst. She could actually see it pulsing all the way down the hall and even the burly man’s death glare was not enough to overpower the sheer hilarity of it all. The man should enter battle like that. How could a vampire stand against such a man and not quake in his boots?

“YOU!” the vein bellowed as it throbbed its way down the hall. Eira should have responded but she could not take her eyes off the damn thing. She forced herself to make eye contact as Isran closed to an uncomfortably small distance.

“Why,” he hissed in Eira’s face. “Did a vampire show up here looking for you?”

_No!_

Eira nearly panicked at the thought of Serana being strung up and tortured by Isran's cronies. Her first reaction should have been to jam her thumb into the vein and ask what he had done to her. She decided that would have been a bad, albeit very satisfying decision. Serana would not let anyone harm her. If anyone had tried, she would not be hearing about it from Isran but from Serana as she pulled her from the smoking hole that had once been Fort Dawnguard.

She tried to keep her composure as Isran glowered. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid! You know it, don’t you? Are you its thrall?” The vein actually managed to raise itself further from Isran’s forehead as he reached for the sword hanging on his back.

“If I were her thrall, why would she show up here looking for me?” Eira asked patiently. Reasoning with Isran seemed about as fruitful as talking to a bear but she felt she had to try. Once that failed, her throwing knife would have to be enough.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Isran fumed. “Now tell me how you know it.”

“She was at Dimhollow,” Eira said, fast running out of patience. “She saved my life.”

“It is a vampire!”

 _Nothing gets by you, does it?_ “She wasn’t part of the group you wanted dead.” Eira was bending the truth there but not enough for her to feel guilty. “And, again, she saved my life. I wasn’t about to turn around and kill her for that.”

Against all odds, the worst of the insanity faded from Isran’s eyes. He still looked ready to split Eira in half right there but it was a start. “Fine. But you’re coming with me. We’re going to have a nice little chat, just you, me, and it. Then I’m going to kill it. If I like how things go, I might not kill you, too.”

Isran jerked his head and Eira started walking. She would have liked to see him try. She wondered if Serana would bother to dance on his corpse when she finished. Isran shoved her toward the second floor and none-too-gently directed her toward a room she had never seen. There, just out of sight of the main atrium, was a torture chamber. The floor was caked in dried blood and skulls adorned the shelves, placed just high enough to be looking down on the victims and reminding all who entered here of their fate.

And there, standing in the middle of it all, arms folded and lips drawn to an angry line, was Serana. She looked ready to rip a brick from the wall and start bashing heads in. Eira looked her over, making sure she was all right. Not that she was worried, she just liked knowing her odds of being killed and eaten whenever she entered a room.

Serana had clearly not been worried about Eira. She regarded her the same way children looked at strange vegetables on their dinner plates. It was an unpleasant parallel.

Isran positioned himself behind Eira and unlimbered his sword. Serana did not move. Eira folded her arms and feigned nonchalance while fingering her throwing knife. If things went badly, she could only hope Serana was feeling merciful enough to let her walk away. She could hardly blame the chilly reception on Eira. That was what Eira was telling herself, anyway.

“All right, here she is,” Isran spat at Serana. “Now talk.”

Serana gave Eira a tortured look. She tensed, fighting some last battle with herself. Then, without a word, she sagged, letting all the tension in the world out in an enormous, silent sigh. The display did little for Eira’s confidence.

When she finally met Eira’s gaze, she managed a little smile. “I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

“A girl can dream,” Eira quipped, widening Serana’s smile just a little.

“If it makes you feel better, I never thought I’d see you again, either.” The little smile faded, and in its place was the pained expression she had worn a moment ago. “But I think I’m in over my head.”

Isran snorted, dragging his sword along the floor in a thin stream of sparks. Serana looked at him like a child in need of a beating before going on. “My father is obsessed with a prophecy he found when I was a girl. It says that vampires will no longer need to fear the tyranny of the sun and makes vague references to making night reign eternal.” Serana intoned the whole bit scornfully, waving her hand in frustration. Not the superstitious type, apparently. “It’s ridiculous, of course, but I guess my father thought it made for a good read.”

Eira looked sideways at Isran. He looked like he was listening but could just have been gearing up for a swing at Eira’s head. “Sounds like the perfect world for a vampire. What’s the problem?”

Serana gave her a derisive smirk. “Nothing, until every human in the world decides to gang up and tear us limb from limb.”

“Damn right,” Isran growled. He liked that part of the story.

“My father disagreed,” Serana said, ignoring the interruption. “Or maybe he thought we would win. My mother and I both tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen. Now my mother is gone and my father is getting close to fulfilling the prophecy. I decided someone had to stop him, so I came out here to do it myself.”

She met Eira’s eyes, looking like she would rather be anywhere else in the world. “But I need help to do it.”

The worlds rolled out of her mouth and hung dead in the air between them. Eira put on a miserable face that hopefully got her point across very clearly. She already knew she was going to help, but she still felt like complaining about it first.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” the bear in the corner snarled.

What the hell kind of answer was he expecting? Eira nearly threw her dagger at him just so she could have this conversation with Serana in private.

Serana looked just as annoyed at having her time wasted. “Why else would I have walked all the way here and turned myself over looking for help?”

“Maybe you’re a spy.” The sword drew another line of sparks along the floor.

“If she is, you don’t really have much to worry about,” Eira said. “Look, you’ve already caught her.”

That vein threatened to pop out of his head again. Eira turned back to Serana who was doing a poor job of hiding a grin. “What makes you think he’s close?”

“My father loves speeches. He made a few after he threw you out and they weren’t the subtle kind. I don’t know what he’s found but it’s making him bold.”

She was avoiding the question but Eira let it go. She could always bring it up later when there were fewer vampire hunters around. “And you have a plan for stopping him?”

Serana made a show of adjusting the Elder Scroll still strapped to her back. “I have a few ideas. The easiest would be to just read the prophecy straight off this thing, find out what my father needs to succeed, and keep him from getting his hands on it.”

Eira grimaced and hoped that was not her only idea. Reading an Elder Scroll was not her idea of a good time. Even the few who trained long and hard enough to decipher them were hesitant to actually open one up. Blindness and madness were common, making the task a daunting one at best. What good was having the universe’s diary if you couldn’t read its handwriting?

“I don’t suppose you have a Moth Priest handy?” Eira asked. They were the only group she knew about from her days in the Empire. Her studies had been focused on things more mundane than the secrets of the cosmos.

Serana shrugged. “Sorry. And I’m not thrilled with the prospect of walking halfway across the world to find one.”

“You might not need to,” Isran said, apparently setting aside his bloodlust long enough to join the conversation. “If my reports are accurate, a Moth Priest recently crossed the border into Skyrim.”

“Any idea where he is now?” Serana asked.

Serana’s voice seemed to bring Isran back down to his normal, angry self. “You’re on your own, bloodsucker. I’ll have no part of this. I’m busy fighting a war here, and I intend to win it.”

From where Eira was standing, it looked more like he was gathering his little cult together in these ruins while the vampires ran rampant, but looks could be deceiving. “Fine. As much as I’ve enjoyed my time here, I was about to be on my way.” Eira turned to Isran. “Are we free to go?”

“Yeah, you can go,” Isran snarled. “But don’t come crying to me when she tries to kill you out there.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Eira promised. She doubted she would survive an attempt on her life anyway. She turned to Serana and made a grandiose gesture toward the door. “M’Lady.”

 

Even the walk out of Fort Dawnguard was an ordeal. It was easy to tell Serana was a vampire even from a distance and it seemed they had to pass every soldier in the Dawnguard in order to leave. They also seemed to have nothing better to do than judgmentally stare and menace the two of them with their crossbows. As they passed, Serana seriously considered setting one or two of them on fire just to give them something else to stare at.

They finally managed to exit the fort itself and were greeted by the blinding light of the midday sun. Serana pulled the hood of her cloak forward as far as it would go, but even the sun shining off the fresh snow was unbearable. She could feel her eyes writhing in pain. Rather than set some of the Dawnguard on fire, she should have just eaten them.

She let Eira pass, raising a gloved hand in front of her eyes to block out a particularly brilliant snowdrift. Eira stopped halfway down the steps before looking back to cock an eyebrow. Serana said nothing, giving her only a resigned look before pulling her hood forward one last time and following Eira down the stairs.

The grounds around Fort Dawnguard were swarming with even more soldiers training with their crossbows and wooden practice swords. Or it should have been, anyway. Instead, everyone stopped what they were doing to glare at the passing vampire and her friendly human. At least Eira was weathering the stares well. If anything, she seemed disdainful of everyone wearing the Dawnguard colors. Serana tacked yet another question on her list of things she wanted to know about Eira and tucked it away for a better time.

A few long minutes later and they were out of the yard and into the mountains. Eira glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was following. Serana already knew no one was there. Satisfied, Eira broke the silence. “Well, we’re alone, now. Do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

She really didn’t, but Eira had earned her answers. “What do you want to know?”

“Why me?”

Serana smirked. “I needed someone I could trust. A thousand years in the future and, well, you were my only choice.”

Eira rolled her eyes. “I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

Eira continued grumbling as they plodded over the frozen mud that marked the only trail through the mountains and back to Skyrim. Serana could not resist a smile. She had missed making Eira miserable. “You could always go back and I could find someone else.”

“You don’t mean that,” Eira said easily. “You like having me along for the ride.”

“Do I, now?” Serana raised an eyebrow in challenge. When Eira refused to back down, she changed her look to one of pure, doe-eyed innocence. “I suppose you’re right. It does get awful lonely exploring all by myself.”

Eira cackled. “All right, I’m sold. Why didn’t you just do that earlier, when Isran was around?”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t have taken it well,” Serana said, laughing at the thought. “And I think I’ve lost enough blood for a while after our last little adventure.”

“Come on, bleeding out builds character.”

Serana flourished her dagger and pretended to examine it in the sunlight. “Really? I was just thinking you could do with a little character building.”

“I’ll just bet.” Eira put her hands up and distanced herself from Serana as much as the path would allow.

Sarcasm aside, Serana had been lonely during her trek from Volkihar to Fort Dawnguard. It had even started out badly, with no one there to row her back to shore. And there had been times when she had found herself enjoying Eira’s company. Besides being good for a laugh, Serana felt like she knew her already. Both had made a habit of running from their past and neither of them had come away without scars. There was comfort in knowing that someone else out there had managed to keep going.

She still wanted to know her whole story, but Serana kept silent. She understood the desire to hide from what had happened. She did not know what she would do if Eira started poking around in her past.

“All right, I’ve got another one,” Eira said, coming back to the center of the path and interrupting Serana’s thoughts. “What’s the real story with this prophecy? Your father loved his speeches but that’s not why you’re here. Nothing he said could have made you walk blindly into a nest of vampire hunters.”

Serana had been waiting for this one. She hoped she could trust Eira with the answer. “After my father threw you out, he seemed to forget I existed. With nothing to do, I started poking around the castle and I found a copy of the prophecy. I remember part of it from when I was a girl but I had never seen the whole thing. The copy I found had lines that very clearly referenced a key ingredient in the ritual; it needs the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour.”

Eira’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard that name.”

“Not many people have. It means pureblooded vampire.” Serana stopped in the middle of the road. “Me.”

Eira stopped in the road in front of her. Serana thought she could trust her. They had been through a lot together, even if they had only just met. This shouldn’t have been this hard. Serana found herself wishing she had never said a word. She didn’t want Eira to turn on her and she had just given her the perfect excuse.

“So he needs your blood for this to work.”

Serana nodded, not taking her eyes of Eira or her weapons. “Mine would be the easiest. My mother’s or any other Daughter’s blood would work, but…”

She let it hang there, waiting for a reaction as Eira mulled it over. After a long moment, Eira’s gaze softened. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to kill you just to make his life more difficult.”

Serana let out a quiet sigh of relief. “That’s why I didn’t mention it to your friends back there. I think they’d just love an excuse to tear me apart.”

“You’re probably right. But you don’t need to worry. I’m on your side. There’s less fire.”

“Thank you,” Serana said, unable to contain her laughter.

Eira put on a grin and started walking again. Serana fell in easily beside her. It was a relief having someone on her side for once. Even if that person was insufferable at the best of times. Serana had to remind herself time and again that it could be worse. Being around her father and his sycophantic followers had reminded her of that. It made being out here with someone like Eira that much sweeter.

“Wait a second.”

Eira slowed and Serana gave her an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

“So we’re just going to walk all over Skyrim hunting for this guy? The two of us looking under every rock for one old man?”

Serana found it hard to argue. “Yeah. I agree, it’s a bit thin, but that is the only plan we’ve got. Why?”

She looked thoughtful, pinching her chin and looking sideways at Serana. “And I could go home now if I just killed you –“

Serana punched her in the shoulder and sent her sprawling into a snowdrift. She should have picked someone else.


	5. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana find their Moth Priest

Eira’s shoulder was still sore. They had walked practically the length of Skyrim to find their elusive Moth Priest and yet she could still feel those impossibly hard knuckles digging into her shoulder. She supposed she should be grateful nothing was broken.

At least now they were close to finding their main. By blind luck, they had bumped into one of the carriage drivers the priest had used on his way here. Their luck then returned to normal and Eira was forced to turn over a small mountain of gold coins before he would tell her what she wanted to know. The miserable little shit must have known she was desperate or he would have just gossiped about the strangeness of it all.

In hindsight, Eira probably should have let Serana do the talking. She could have intimidated him or, better still, she could have just eaten the little man and gotten Eira’s money back. That was the second time Eira had made that mistake. There would not be a third. The next person who tried to walk away with her life’s savings was getting served up for breakfast.

The town of Dragon’s Bridge was not where Eira would have thought to look for their Moth Priest. She had imagined him travelling to the great library at the College of Winterhold or spending time in Solitude with the rest of Skyrim’s well-to-do Imperials. Dragon’s Bridge was hardly a dot on the map even for the average traveler, let alone a man as distinguished as this. As Eira and Serana made their way over the ornate bridge that gave the town its name, they could see the village from end to end.

And there was very little to see. It was late in the evening when they finally crossed the span, a choice made largely for Serana’s benefit, and the overwhelming silence reminded Eira of Dimhollow. Nothing was moving. The mill by the river was quiet, the waterwheel spinning on its own. So was the inn up the road and the Imperial barracks across the street. There were no carriages in the streets or children playing in the fields. The only signs of life were a few bored-looking guards wandering the streets or lounging near the edges of town.

Maybe that was for the best. Serana was coming off her last meal and her eyes were beginning to glow again. It was not too noticeable, or at least Eira hoped it wasn’t. Otherwise this would likely be a very short visit, and one punctuated by pitchforks and torches.

The two passed the first few houses in silence before Serana spoke up. She looked about as hopeful as Eira felt. “Why would the Moth Priest come here?”

“He probably didn’t,” Eira said unhappily. The thought had just occurred to her and she did not like what it implied. “He probably was just passing through. Maybe he changed drivers or hired new guards. Solitude isn’t far from here. He might have decided to go to port and leave Skyrim altogether.”

Serana was giving her a look. “You’re optimistic this evening.”

“Just tired,” Eira admitted with a sigh. “It feels like we’re chasing our tails while your father –“ She stopped herself, wondering how exactly to say the last part. Serana’s father was indeed trying to destroy the world, but insulting a woman’s family was not exactly polite. Or safe, in this case.

Lucky for her, Serana was the forgiving type. “I know. It’s boring work but it has to be done.”

“Couldn’t someone else do it?”

Serana laughed. “You trust the Dawnguard to do our hunting for us?”

“No,” Eira replied unhappily.

“Well, there you go. I suppose I could go ask my father to look him up, but that might get a little,” she paused, looking for the right word. “Awkward.”

Eira could hardly argue. This was their task, and theirs alone. It may not have been as exciting as slaying dragons but at least it was safer, and safety was a rare commodity where Serana was concerned. Eira suspected she had few quiet hours in her life. All this walking and waiting must have been killing her.

On the other hand, someone as old and disciplined as her might be perfectly comfortable with the pace of things. She might be well-accustomed to plotting, waiting for decades or even centuries for the right moment to strike, and vanishing into the shadows thereafter, with no one the wiser and her name unremembered. It had a rather romantic ring to it, when one ignored the very long periods of time where nothing at all happened. Perhaps Eira would do well to remember that all this walking was for a good cause, her sore feet the bitter cadence to a heroic story long in the telling.

What a wonderful lie that made.

Serana’s easy laughter brought Eira out of her trance. “Cheer up. All this time travelling will let us get to know each other better. I can’t remember the last time I spent this long with a mortal.”

“Without eating them, you mean,” Eira pointed out, determined to be sour.

“See?” Serana grinned, pointedly exposing her fangs. “Cheer up. Things could be worse.”

Before Eira could come up with a proper retort, she was distracted by the sudden appearance of another mortal on the street. One of the guards had decided to stretch his legs and was out for a stroll. It turned out to be a young man, probably not out of his teens yet, his helmet a little too big and his spear held too apathetically, too awkwardly for him to have seen much combat. A raw recruit, then, fresh out of the Legion’s barracks. He looked miserable. No soldier wanted to be shunted into guard duty, especially not someone so green.

Actually, that was probably why he looked so down. In Eira’s experience, the more combat a soldier saw, the cushier these guard details started to look. Every day someone was not trying to stick a sword in you was a good day in her book. But she remembered her first days well. This poor kid was probably itching to get out there and cut down rebel scum in the name of the Empire. Eira was not sure whether to envy the kid or pity him.

Either way, she moved into his path and got his attention. “Soldier, we’re looking for a Moth Priest. He would have passed this way only a few days ago. Have you seen him?”

The man very nearly kept walking, no doubt resentful at being reduced to directing traffic. He stopped when he caught sight of Serana. Even in the fading light and covered in winter gear, Serana was plainly gorgeous, and the poor kid made a point of answering Eira’s question in Serana’s direction instead of her own.

“Yeah, saw him head over the bridge not a few hours ago. You could head to the inn and wait up for him there.” The fool was practically drooling.

Eira was about to open her mouth and cut in when she noticed Serana making eyes at the guard and wisely decided to shut her mouth. It was not like she couldn’t handle herself anyway. This kid had no idea who – or what – he was trying to cozy up to.

“Please, it’s really important. Can you tell us which way he went?” Serana did some shifting under her cloak that managed to capture the imagination of the very attentive soldier. Eira watched the poor man’s eyes follow her every move. He was so young his mother probably still had to remind him how to lace up his boots. And here he was, signed up to kill or be killed at a moment’s notice. It was hard to blame him for indulging in a little eye candy. His world could end tomorrow at the tip of a Stormcloak spear.

“Yeah, of course, but I don’t know exactly where. He left over the bridge. I think he went South after. I wasn’t watching, I was on assignment, but that’s what I heard from the sentries. Could have been going to Whiterun.” His answers were so sharp Serana might have been his drill sergeant. “Still, it’s pretty late. You should stay in town, head out in the morning. The inn here serves the best stew in Skyrim. I know the innkeeper. I can get you a room for nothing.”

Serana gave him a smile that could have melted a glacier. “Thanks, handsome. I owe you one. Might take you up on that room on our way back.”

_Oh, that was just mean._

Serana walked away, casting one last seductive glance over her shoulder. The soldier gave a wink and a nod, then spun on his heel and marched away. Eira followed Serana toward the bridge, peering over her own shoulder to make sure they were alone.

“That poor kid is going to be walking funny all the way back to his buddies,” Eira observed.

Serana laughed it off. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” She gave Eira that ice-melting look that had so enthralled the poor soldier. Now it was Eira’s turn to laugh it off.

“A lifetime ago, maybe. Where were you when I was eighteen, full of youth and stupidity?” Eira asked in rather dramatic lament.

“Catching up on my sleep,” Serana answered dryly. “And you’re saying you’re not full of stupidity now?”

“Not full. I’ve used up quite a bit over the years. And, travelling alone with a vampire all over Skyrim, I’d say I’ll be running out any day now.”

“Ever the optimist,” Serana chuckled. “Any plans for when you run out?”

“Get more. Clearly I wouldn’t know what to do without it.”

Serana gave Eira a very pleased look, but some higher power kept her from twisting the knife Eira had jammed into herself. Instead she changed the subject. “So, what do you think our odds are?”

“At finding the Moth Priest?” Eira asked.

Serana nodded. “We’re backtracking, now, crisscrossing Skyrim in search of one old coot.”

“This was your plan, you know.”

It was not a helpful reminder. “Actually, my original plan had this going far better.”

“And what was that?” Eira asked.

“I would have played the loyal daughter, pledging to help my dear family with whatever they desired. My father would have been delighted – or pretended to be – and allowed me to take over whatever I wanted. I could have sent his legions out scouring the world for the Moth Priest with orders to bring him to me alive and unharmed.”

The idea of Serana having vampire legions at her disposal was beyond terrifying, though Eira thought it best not to say so. “So you could have cleaned up this whole mess from the comfort of an armchair.”

“Or a throne,” Serana suggested happily. “But yes. I could have done this sitting down.”

“So,” Eira asked slowly. “Why not do that instead?”

Serana paused for a moment, giving Eira a long look. “Is it so hard to believe I just wanted an adventure?”

It was not that far-fetched. Eira found her feet itching after a few days in one place, let alone a few thousand years. “There’s more to it than that.”

“Maybe,” Serana admitted as they rounded another bend in the road. “There’s the mountain air, the blue sky – the good company.”

Eira chuckled. Very well. If Eira was allowed her secrets, Serana was allowed a few of her own. Whatever the reason, Eira was glad to be helping. It felt good having something to chase again, some great heroic adventure to be a part of.

But she did feel like whining a bit first. “So that was enough to come drag me out into the cold?”

“You can always go back,” Serana said flippantly. “I’ll bet Isran would just love to have you.”

“Sure he would,” Eira grumbled. “But you could have at least thought of a better plan for us. You asked me what the odds were on finding one man in all of Skyrim?”

It was at that moment that Eira noticed the thin trail of smoke coming from behind a screen of fallen rocks. Eira was about to make a comment, forestalling any gloating Serana had in store, when she noticed the bodies carpeting the road. Dozens of bandits lay all over the road and in every conceivable posture of death.

Serana spoke for them both. “This looks bad.”

She pointed to a bit of blackened wood now lying in the road. On closer inspection, it proved to be a wagon wheel. “Of course we’d find him like this,” Eira grumbled. It was not enough to find a needle in a haystack, it seemed. They had to find the needle before the haystack decided to up and murder it.

“Vampires did this,” Serana said as she knelt beside one of the dead bandits.

Eira peered over the carnage. Another cluster of bodies lay beyond the dead bandits, all wearing Legion red. They would have been the priest’s guards. She stepped over the dead bandits, uncaring of where her boots landed, and knelt beside what had once been a proud young woman. The girl was younger than Eira, or at least she looked that way in death. Deep brown hair clung thickly to a wound on the side of her head and marred her otherwise unblemished face. Eira found her stomach unsettled. Even after everything she had seen and everything she had done, the odd sight of tragedy still pushed through the numbness. This girl had no business here. None of them did. They were all so young.

Aware that Serana was watching, Eira forced herself to speak even as she continued staring at the dead girl. “How do you figure?”

“These men still have their valuables,” Serana said, making her way over to where Eira was crouched. “The bandits here were slain too cleanly for it to have been a real fight. Nothing about it looks right. See the cart? What kind of bandit would do that?”

Serana hardly needed to point it out. The cart was a smoldering wreck, its contents long-since lost to the flames that claimed it. If this was a raid for gold or even for prisoners, it had been a sloppy one at best.

“I don’t see our Moth Priest,” Eira said, musing aloud as her thoughts slowly returned from the realm of pity. “You think your father took him?”

Serana gave her a no-shit stare she chose to ignore. Eira rolled her eyes and looked toward the edge of the road.

“Looks like whoever took him went northwest.”

The mocking look vanished from Serana’s face as she hurried to look over the same dirt Eira was staring at. It was plain enough to Eira. The half-covered tracks leading into the woods actually looked so obvious that she nearly thought they were a ruse. When she had failed to find any other, more convincing trails from her spot beside the dead woman, she decided the vampires either inexperienced in field craft or just downright arrogant.

Serana looked back, raising an eyebrow. Eira sighed. “Eight years I’ve been doing this. I know what to look for.”

Eira stood, turning her back on the dead men and women. She should have done something; closed their eyes, maybe. She convinced herself someone else would be along to give them their last rites before the wolves and crows got to them. Lies like that were easy to believe.

She was grateful when Serana fell in beside her, silently watching the countryside for any signs of movement and letting Eira pick out the trail. It was not long before she tired of that and began asking questions about what Eira was doing. What made her turn left here or why that bit of grass had caught her eye. Eira was all too happy to talk her ear off about something so blessedly mundane and it was not long before Serana was leading, picking out broken twigs and scuffs on mossy roots. She had a brilliant eye, just an inexperienced one, and Eira began to wonder if this was her first real chance to explore the world outside her family’s island.

At length they came to one last fork in the road. Eira ushered Serana off the road and behind a wall of dense foliage before peering up toward their destination: a cave, well-concealed by brush and hiding in the shadow of the mountain. A single figure guarded the door, and judging by his hardscrabble leathers and gleaming axe, he was nothing more than a common bandit. He had also been denied a fire and Eira could swear she could hear his teeth chattering from here.

Before Eira could move, Serana placed a hand on her shoulder, motioning for her to stay put, and moved off into the wild. Eira forced herself to wait patiently. She did trust Serana to handle one bandit all by herself, she just really wanted to be up and moving. Sitting quietly in the snow left her with nothing to do but think about how bloody cold it was. It would have been nice to stamp her feet to keep the blood flowing.

And Serana was certainly taking her time dealing with that bandit. It became more and more difficult not to fidget in place. Eventually she settled against the trunk of a large oak tree and did her best to keep watch while the wind snuck inside her cloak. She pulled it tighter, hoping she was hidden well enough that no one would see her unless they were tripping over her feet.

A warm breath on her neck froze her blood faster than the wind ever could.

“Boo.”

_Serana._ Eira did her best not to turn around and throttle her. Serana glided up beside her, silent as a ghost, moonlight shining off her broad grin. Eira’s face remained deadpan. “All clear?” she whispered.

Serana nodded, grin undiminished. “Try to keep up.”

She set off toward the cave without another word, leaving Eira to stumble after her in the moonlight. Next to the vampire, Eira sounded like a damned bear crashing through the forest. She had long thought herself a master of the shadows until she had met Serana. It was a very humbling thing to witness.

Eira made her way up the hill, hiking up to the mouth of the cave before nearly bumping into Serana. She was still grinning. Eira shook her head but obviously her disapproval meant little.

Still in silence, Serana moved into the darkness first, Eira close on her heels. Eira tried to stay close but was soon utterly blind. There was no light from the outside world after the first few twists and turns. When it went completely black, Eira was reduced to clutching Serana’s hand as she led her along. By some act divine mercy she did not take the opportunity to poke fun at Eira.

After what seemed like a small eternity of being dragged around in the dark, Eira finally saw light flickering around one of the bends. It was not torchlight, but an ominous blue glow that seemed to be crackling like lightning. Eira had not exactly expected normalcy from a vampire cabal but it would have been a nice touch. Serana rounded the final bend first and stopped before Eira had even followed her. She did not look happy, and a moment later, Eira could see why.

Their path had dumped them about halfway down the wall of a massive cavern, its floor littered with flaming braziers, a sizeable river, and the ruins of an old castle keep dominating the far wall. Eira made a silent oath never to follow Serana inside a cave ever again. She was beginning to recognize a pattern in their architecture and she did not want to see a pattern in the things trying to kill them.

“That,” Serana said glumly. “Does not look promising.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Eira grumbled. She squinted toward the keep and the little figures on the crumbling walls. “I can’t get a good count. Looks like maybe half a dozen on the walls, another couple in the courtyard. Plus whatever that thing is.”

Eira pointed toward the source of the light they had seen earlier. Near the back of the cavern, partially hidden by the keep, was an enormous blue dome. She could only see the top but the curvature gave her a good idea of just how large it was.

“Got any ideas?” Serana asked.

“I’m all for going back,” Eira chirped.

“How noble of you.”

“We can wait for them on the road,” Eira said. “Take them when they leave. We fight them on our terms and when we know how many we’re actually going up against. Unless, you know, you want to just charge in head first.”

Serana was quiet entirely too long. “No,” she said at last. “But we can’t leave.”

Eira looked from Serana to the blue dome and back again. “You know what that is?”

“Not exactly,” Serana said carefully. “But I know what they’ll be trying to do. They want the Moth Priest to obey them, to serve them. They don’t want a captive, they want a thrall, and that’s exactly what they’ll be trying to do to him. If they turn him against us, make him a servant of my father, I don’t know that we’ll be able to bring him back.”

It was not what Eira had been hoping for but she was hardly surprised. If there was anything to take from Serana’s tone, they were on a clock, and even Serana seemed unsure of how much sand had passed through the hourglass. If they were going to do this, it had to be now.

Her eyes meandered over the underground landscape one more time. There was a stone bridge over the river. It was out of the light but Eira thought she saw something moving near the far side. Beyond that was the keep, its single entrance well-lit and watched by every pair of eyes in the room. They would be walking into a storm of fire, steel, and uncomfortably pointy teeth.

Which left Eira with just the one option. “Well, I think I see a way inside.”

Serana raised an eyebrow at Eira’s unhappy tone. “That sounds like good news.”

“Not really.” Eira pointed to where the keep’s outer wall met the side of the cavern. “See the rocks there, just by the waterfall? That part of the wall’s dark. If I can scale the rocks and get up on top of the wall, I can get inside and start picking them off. That should give you enough of a distraction to push your way through the front gate and take them from the other side. You’ll be on them before they know you’re there.”

Serana looked back and forth from the waterfall to the main gate, pondering Eira’s insanity. It was after about the fourth or fifth time she finally started nodding along. “Yeah. That’s definitely the worst way we could possibly be doing this.”

“And yet you’re not saying no.”

“What will the signal be?”

Eira hefted her bow and chuckled. “Take a guess.”

Without another word she loped off into the dark. Hopefully she had not missed anyone skulking in the shadows. It would be hard enough getting there without falling in the river or cracking her head open when she slipped off the cavern wall. She did not need anyone trying to stick a knife in her while she climbed.

She did not look back to gauge Serana’s progress toward the gate. Slipping through the shadows, she reached the edge of the river without anyone sounding the alarm. At least, she did not hear anyone shouting or screaming. She hopped down into the shallows before that changed, placed her hands on the edge of the bridge, and started shimmying over the river. It felt like it took days to make the crossing. When she was finally over, she scuttled back to the safety of the wall, her clothes soaked from the river’s spray.

It took only a moment for her to catch her breath. Serana was still nowhere in sight, but that was probably for the best. If she could see her that meant the vampires could probably see her, too. Sadly, without a good reason to walk away, that left Eira with nothing to do but keep going with the next part of her own horrible plan. She turned toward the ragged cliff face, the stones in front of her shining in the dim blue light, made an effort to find the driest of them, and began her climb.

Eira was a woman cursed with self-awareness. As she worked her way up the cliff, she quickly reviewed her situation and did not like what she found. Here she was, in the dark, climbing a wet cliff with no rope in order to help her vampire friend read and Elder Scroll so she stop her father’s plot to kill the sun and rule the world.

For Eira, that settled it. After this she was going to become a turnip farmer.

Gods, did that sound nice. The fresh air, a cozy little house, a dog; there was even a nice patch of land outside Whiterun that looked perfect. And when did turnips ever try to kill you?

Miraculously, Eira managed to scramble her way up to the high ledge that would carry her over the battlements and behind the vampire’s lines. From here she could perfectly make out the source of the eerie blue light. A pair of vampires stood in front of the huge blue dome. One of them looked like he was talking to the lone figure trapped inside. With Eira’s luck, that would be the Moth Priest. He was probably being tortured right now, his mind being ripped apart and cobbled back together to form a vampire-worshipping mess. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?

It occurred to her that the climb may have made her irritable. The Moth Priest could be dead in a matter of moments. Eira began shuffling along the ledge as quickly as she dared. She hoped Serana was ready down below.

 

Serana watched from her hiding place as Eira scaled the cliff. Even with her night vision, Serana doubted she could have done as well. Eira was quiet, sure, and seemed to know exactly where the next handhold was. It was quite a feat to witness. Even so, it was still ages before she reached the top and moved out of sight.

Serana hated waiting. Already she had taken a dozen different positions to get better angles on the courtyard, careful to stay out of sight every time she moved. There were three vampires inside the courtyard, two of them with thralls. One of the thralls stood near an open flame, a bow in his hand and a slack expression on his face. The other wielded a great mallet and stood guard outside the front gate. The vampires stuck to the shadows, no doubt hoping any attackers would be distracted by the fodder long enough for them to strike.

One of those vampires plodded along the wall in obvious boredom. He must have been the junior member to get stuck patrolling while the others dozed in the shadows. Likely he thought the whole thing was pointless. Why bother keeping watch? No one had escaped the slaughter they had brought down on the caravan. Even if the scene was discovered, the soonest anyone would respond would be tomorrow at first light. Besides, their guard outside would surely warn them if anyone was approaching. And what manner of fool would attack a group of vampires in their hideout?

_A deeply troubled fool and her vampire friend._

Serana smirked. She loved being the best at what she did. Her whole young life had been spent training and it had made her a terror with blade and magic alike. And that had been before she had been turned.

She suppressed a shiver at the memory. She did not like being reminded that she had a lot in common with her deeply troubled fool.

Where was she, anyway? How long had she been gone? The vampire on watch stopped directly over the gate, lounged against the ramparts, and turned to face the courtyard. Serana felt a rush of adrenaline. It was too good to pass up. Besides, she could handle the group in the courtyard with one hand. It was Eira who would need the help.

And the plan really was terrible. Changing it made sense. She took a deep breath, called up her first spells, and burst from cover.

Her position across the river ensured that she would not be seen, but it meant she had to hop across the roaring water on wet rocks in the dark while casting her first spells. Her grin broadened as she leapt from the shore to the first stone. She loved a challenge.

Her first spell, a ice spike the size of a javelin, struck the lounging vampire at the base of his neck, sending him sailing off the wall and over the courtyard. The thrall by the gate turned dumbly to watch as the corpse flew silently and gracefully, arms outstretched like wings, a dozen paces behind the walls.

One of the vampires swore loudly, shrieking something to her thralls. Her shrieks intensified as a fireball slammed into her chest, setting her ablaze and lighting the far side of the courtyard as though it were midday.

The thrall by the gate roared, eyes going wild at the sight of his mistress dying. Serana put him out of his misery with a knife thrust to the back of his skull. Three down in the span of a few seconds. Serana bolted to the left, making for a wooden staircase that would take her on top of the wall. She sent a lightning bolt streaking toward the archer, missing by inches as he hurled himself behind the ramparts.  
Racing up the steps, she reached the top of the wall and dropped into a crouch. She had lost sight of the other vampire. The archer was scrambling and swearing up a storm from behind his rock. Serana gently encouraged him to stay put by sending a fireball to explode on the ground beside him.

This turned out to be a mistake, as she caught a flash of light from the darkness a few dozen meters away from the archer just in time to realize it was a spell. She barely brought up a ward in time to deflect the incoming fireball. Now it was her turn to scramble back behind something solid, grunting as her ward absorbed a pair of lightning bolts. More bolts shot stone chips from the ground next to her, to which she responded with her own lighting. She was shooting blind, but still she heard her target curse and was rewarded with a brief lull in the barrage.

Taking advantage of the brief respite, she jumped out and tossed a ball of light along the wall top, ducking back into cover without seeing where it landed. She heard something solid pass inches over her head as she moved. The archer had loosed and her vampire opponent would be visible. She jumped back out of cover.

Luckily for her, the vampire had chosen that moment to break cover as well, hoping to move out of the glow of Serana’s ball of light. Serana loosed an ice spike, swearing as the man threw a ward up just before it skewered him. Her own ward deflected one fireball, then another as she closed the gap between them. Just as a third fireball whizzed within inches of her head, she dropped her ward and threw all her might behind a bolt of lightning aimed at the center of his ward.

The ward shattered, and the vampire exploded in a shower of burning dust. The bolt had been so bright that Serana had to blink the image out of her eyes for a moment. Fortunately for her, the archer thrall was so distraught at losing his master that he dropped his bow and charged Serana with a knife. She dropped him before he had gone two paces.

There was no time to catch her breath. Serana hurried to the rear of the courtyard in search of a way up to the dome of light. She found herself following its blue glow up a curving flight of stairs before she slowed, calming herself. She had to resist the urge to run. Eira was either survived the battle or she was already dead, and if she had gotten herself killed, whatever had killed her was ready and angry.

Serana crept onto the roof, ward at the ready. Nothing tried to set her on fire in the first few seconds so that was a good sign. She had emerged from the stairs onto what must have been the roof of the keep. The blue dome dominated the rooftop, its light bright enough here to be almost painful. She squinted into the light for a moment and found exactly what she expected. Kneeling in the center, his hands over his ears, was a very old man. One Moth Priest, packaged and ready to go.

Two bodies lay on the edge of the barrier. One was facedown, an arrow in the back of his head, while the other was crumpled up with several arrows sprouting from his chest and one from his right eye. Eira had shot well. Serana hoped it had not been her dying act.

She lowered her ward, walking cautiously toward the ledge Eira had been planning to use. She could see the huge scorch marks along the rock plainly. Loose rock had been scattered over the floor, crunching under Serana’s boots as she walked. Her heart began climbing toward her throat. She was not worried about her, of course. She just did not want to go through the trouble of finding someone else foolish enough to help her. And she was certainly not worried that her mad quest had gotten Eira killed. It had been her choice to follow Serana. She felt no responsibility for her at all.

Eira’s bow clattered to the floor. “What part,” she said, her hand appearing from behind the beaten rocks. “Of wait for my signal confused you?”

Serana beamed as Eira began hoisting herself over the ledge. She hid it quickly – there was no reason for Eira to know she had been worried about her – and watched as the woman tumbled to the ground. Her humor vanished a moment later when she saw the burn marks on Eira’s cloak. She was beside her a moment later, helping her up and checking her over for burns. It looked like Eira had done most of the healing herself. She must have taken a glancing blow to the shoulder during the fight. Damned careless of her, really.

“Sorry, I must have fallen asleep after the first hour of waiting,” Serana said as she helped Eira to her feet.

“Yeah, fine, next time you’re going climbing in the dark and I’ll be the one sitting on my ass,” Eira grumbled. She paused, pretending to dust herself off while her eyes picked over Serana. Was she worried about her?

Serana smirked. “Some of us actually know how to fight,” she teased. Despite nearly being killed, she had come through the ordeal looking unscathed. Eira glared and Serana thought she heard her mutter something about turnips. She thought it best not to ask.

Eira turned toward the column of light to study the man inside. “I guess that’s our Moth Priest. Any idea how we get him out?”

“I think so. I’ve read about this kind of magic,” Serana said, wandering to where one of the vampires had fallen. “One of them should have a keystone. That will…”

She trailed off as she rolled the vampire over with her boot. Her stomach turned as his face fell into the light. She knew him. He was ancient, a member of her father’s court from before she had been locked up. He had not been one of the sycophants her father had surrounded himself with after he had found the prophecy. He had been a friend, someone who had watched with Serana as her father had been replaced by Harkon. She had seen the two of them arguing afterward as he tried to bring her father back. She had not hated him.

“I’m sorry,” Eira murmured from beside her. Serana had not noticed her walk over. “Did you know him?”

“No,” she lied. She bent down, rummaging through his cloak until she found what she was looking for.

“Serana –“

“This should shut down the field,” she said, holding the stone out to Eira and forcing herself to look away from the body. Away from the memories. Eira looked like she wanted to press the point but stayed silent. She took the stone and walked off, plainly worried. Serana wondered why she cared at all. Probably out of concern for herself. Having a moping vampire around was far less useful than a level-headed one.

Eira managed to work out what to do with the stone all by herself, placing it back in the glowing panel near the back of the chamber. The dome dissolved in a flash and plunged the room into darkness. It took a moment for Serana’s eyes to adjust. Eira looked less than pleased but there were enough torches and braziers to keep her from bumping into walls.

As the barrier dissolved, the old man toppled to the floor. Eira started toward him. “Sir? Are you all right?”

The man mumbled something and began getting to his feet. Eira moved faster, determined to help even as Serana lagged behind. She was still dazed by how much she had felt the death of one man, even one she had known for so long. She had not thought herself attached to anyone in her father’s court. That was part of why it had been so easy to leave, to come with Eira on this mad quest to stop him.

Serana hesitated. That was odd. The Moth Priest still had his sword.

The man took his hand away from his forehead for just a split second. It was all Serana needed. She saw his eyes. She tried to shout to Eira but it was too late.

In one fluid motion, the man drew his sword and stabbed Eira through the heart.

Eira screamed, and Serana screamed with her.


	6. Enthralled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana brings Eira back from the dead before putting the Moth Priest under her control

She was dead. She had to be dead.

She had been too slow to avoid the sword. Or maybe she had not wanted to. It was all fuzzy. She remembered the agony of being stabbed, then nothing. She must have gone into shock.

The grey fog in Eira’s mind was slowly lifting. Her eyes began to focus and she began to remember how to see. She felt the cold stone on her back more than anything, but close behind it was the warm, wet feeling on her chest and pooling around her shoulders. That was not a good sign. The cave began to resolve itself around her. It was darker than she remembered. Or was that just her eyes adjusting? The dull roar of the river grew louder as her ears recalled how to hear.

And there, hovering over her, was Serana. Her eyes were fixed on Eira’s, one hand resting on the wound in her chest, one clasping her shoulder. Eira must have been far from awake because Serana actually looked worried about her.

Eira heard herself groan – she could hardly help it, she was in so much pain – and Serana’s look turned to one of relief. It looked like relief, anyway. Everything was still blurry and all EIra could see with any clarity were the glowing orange eyes hovering over her face. The fact that they comforted her was unsettling to say the least.

“Welcome back,” said the too-soft voice. Eira’s eyes focused enough for her to clearly see the smile on Serana’s face.

“You saved my life,” she croaked. Another woman might have said something less stupid, but it was all she could manage.

Still it made that smile grow a little wider. “I learned a thing or two from last time.” Serana held up an empty bottle and gave it a shake. Eira tried to chuckle but it ended in a coughing fit.

She put a hand to her chest where the blade had struck her. Straight through her heart. “That shouldn’t have worked.”

Healing potions had their limits, and a wound like that should have been too much even for the most potent of the things. Serana saw her looking. “Remember the trick you used to heal my side? I thought it’d be good if I knew how to do it, too. Couldn’t have you bleeding out because some old man got the better of you.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” Eira said, ignoring the jab and wincing as she worked her way into a seated position.

Serana helped her up. “Well, just remember that you owe me one, now.” She wrapped her arm around Eira’s shoulders and sat down beside her. Eira hardly noticed.

Lying a few feet away was the katana she had been stabbed with. The length of it was red. Eira shuddered just looking at it. That was all her blood. The boiled leather she wore over her chest was now soaked in it, as were her tunic and cloak. Serana’s arms were stained a dark red, too.

“Believe me, I will,” Eira promised. If Serana ever needed anything, she silently vowed, she would be there. Of course, that was why she was here in the first place, but it was still just nice to know she had put her trust in the right person.

Their Moth Priest lay a dozen paces away, his arm bent at a gruesome angle, his robes burnt and torn. “What happened to him?” Eira asked.

“He’s alive,” Serana spat pure venom as she spoke. “I just had to teach him that stabbing your rescuers is bad manners.”

“Good work. Something tells me he won’t forget that anytime soon.” The priest’s arm was clearly broken and, judging by the robes, Serana had probably set him on fire during her lesson. Eira might have felt bad for him had he not so recently tried to murder her.

“I only do good work,” Serana said easily. She was humble to a fault.

“Hard to argue with that, being brought back from the dead and all. Help me up, would you?” Eira struggled to stand even with Serana’s shoulder under her own.

“I hope you don’t expect me to carry you out.”

“It would show me you care.” Eira truly wouldn’t have minded the help. As it turned out, near-death experiences left one with markedly less pride. Perhaps it passed along with the blood.

Serana shrugged her shoulder and played at dropping her. “Sorry, only room for one, and our friend here can read Elder Scrolls.”

Eira steadied herself as she did, feeling strong enough to on her own. She eased herself off Serana’s shoulder but let her hand linger on her arm for a moment. She should say something. “Thanks.”

It was short and lame and Eira knew it. Still, Serana smiled. “Regretting coming with me?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Eira laughed.

They put the priest’s arm in a sling before properly binding him. Serana insisted on gagging him as well, though Eira was perfectly happy so long as she would not be getting stabbed again. Afterwards, Eira succeeded in demolishing several days’ worth of food from her pack. She promised Serana it was a side effect of the healing but the vampire looked unconvinced. Peeved, Eira hoisted the Moth Priest onto her back and played Serana’s pack mule all the way out into the world.

Daylight greeted them. Serana moved down the slope, eager to find shade in one of the trees as Eira brought up the rear. Had she stayed all night with her? How long had it taken her to bring Eira back from the dead? She was not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“So, what are we going to do with this heavy bastard?” Eira dumped the Moth Priest unceremoniously into the snow and slumped against a tree.

“Take him back to the Dawnguard?” Serana suggested. She was clearly not enthusiastic about the idea. Nor was Eira, but she could see little alternative. As pathetic and frustrating as the Dawnguard could be, they offered the safest place to stash someone now hunted by a vampire lord. This was assuming the little shit did not try to kill anyone after they put him away.

“I guess. But that’s a long way off and I think this guy ate rocks for breakfast.”

“I’m not asking you to carry him all the way back,” Serana said petulantly. “But if you’re already tired, I guess I could lend you a hand.”

From her tone, she was not suggesting they take turns playing pack mule. Maybe she had seen a wheelbarrow on the way over. Either way, it was not that part of the plan that bothered Eira. “We still don’t know how he’ll react when he wakes up. He could be just as angry as he was when we found him.”

Serana looked thoughtful, her eyes fixed on the unfortunate man. “I could make him my thrall.”

Eira raised an eyebrow. “That could work, but I doubt the Dawnguard would go for it.”

“Oh, trust me, they won’t be able to tell the difference.” The evil grin that crossed Serana’s face deeply unsettled Eira.

“It makes me really uncomfortable when you say things like that.”

“Eira, if I’d made you my thrall, you never would have suggested climbing a wet rock wall in the dark while I sat on my hands waiting to rush in and save you.” Serana said it so matter-of-factly that Eira found herself more hurt than relieved.

She did have a point, though. Eira considered for a moment before opening her mouth again. “So, any chance you could enthrall me before I have my next bright idea?”

Serana gave her a look that should have been reserved for her favorite pet. “No, I think I like you better with free will.”

“My free will got me set on fire.”

“And stabbed.”

Eira folded her arms. “Can’t you just make me more suggestible or something?”

“I could, but I won’t,” Serana said sweetly. “You’d be boring like that.”

“Fine. Then how about you tell me your plan for getting this heavy sod all the way across the country. I only give piggyback rides to people who haven’t tried to kill me.”

Serana gave her a pitying smile. “Have a little faith.”

By the time midday rolled around, they were riding back to Fort Dawnguard on a pair of the finest horses Eira had seen in years. She knew better than to ask. All it would do is give Serana another chance to gloat.

 

They made good progress by the time night closed in. Serana may have been perfectly at home in the dark but the horses were not and Eira insisted they stop before one missed a step, leaving one of them to walk the whole way back. She let Eira lead them to a secluded campsite under a rocky overhang and watched as she began to pitch camp. The horses Serana had procured came stocked with canvas and a pair of sleeping rolls, plus food, water, and all the camping gear they could ever need.

Serana put a few simple wards down while Eira got a fire going and broke out her mess kit. The sight of Eira cooking over the fire set Serana’s stomach growling. She would need to feed before they got back to Fort Dawnguard or they might just attack her on sight.

Not Eira, though. The woman had risked her life for Serana – nearly lost her life, in fact. She had trusted her. Serana had been so reluctant to come to Eira for help because she was not sure if she could trust her. Now she felt guilty for asking her to come along at all.

“So, what’s the plan for our friend here?” Eira asked between bites.

Serana looked toward the Moth Priest. She had taken no chances with him after his treatment of Eira, dosing him with a sleeping potion before they had started from Dragon’s Bridge. He would be out of it for a week if they let him sleep uninterrupted. Eira had dumped him in a heap beside the fire probably hoping he would roll in.

“I can do it here, if you’d like,” Serana offered cautiously. It was not something she took lightly but it was something that needed to be done. She might as well get it over with now. But she had to be careful; too much and he would be an adoring waste of humanity, too little and Eira might not survive his next attack.

“You’re the expert. Just make sure he won’t try to stick me again, would you? Once was enough,” Eira reminded her unhelpfully.

“You’re such a baby.”

Serana walked unwillingly to where the old man lay crumpled. She rolled him over to find him fast asleep, just as she had planned. Sadly she needed those eyes open. It was tempting to put his feet in the fire – something Eira surely would have approved of – but she needed him as fit as possible when she handed him an Elder Scroll. She pulled a vial from one of the pockets of her cloak and tipped the contents into the sleeping man’s mouth.

“Where did you pick that up?” Eira asked from the fire.

“My mother taught me when I was young,” she said offhandedly. She kept her eyes on the priest and watched her potion work.

“When you were young?” Eira sounded confused.

Before Serana could wave her away, the Moth Priest began to stir. He groaned, his head lolling as limply as a doll’s. She heard Eira get to her feet and move up beside her. Was she being protective of her?

The priest’s eyes opened and fixed on Serana’s. Good. She met them, calling up that strange mix of Alteration and Illusion that made what she did possible. Pure rage stared back at her as his eyes became lucid. It lasted only a few moments. Serana worked slowly, like water wearing down stone, watching the man’s eyes become unfocused, his expression slackening to a dull stare. Playing with the mind was an incredibly subtle art. Either you took your time or you broke your victim.

She closed her eyes, feeling around inside his head. A wrinkle here and a bit of smoothing there and she could make him dance. A bit more pressure and she could make him forget his own mother. She could feel where it had been done before. The other vampires must have tried this before subjecting him to their torments. Their work was sloppy, painfully obvious, and more than once Serana wondered how his mind had not been broken.

She set about removing the wards that made him their puppet. One by one they fell, his mind returning to what it had been just yesterday. It was exhausting work. Every time she took one down, it seemed two more would pop up in its place. The vampires may have been sloppy but they had certainly been thorough.

She untangled a particularly nasty ward and, all at once, her vision cleared. She had done it. There were no more wards to untangle, no vast swathes of blank ink spilled over his mental map. She breathed a sigh of relief.

And that had been the easy part.

She forced herself to start making her own wards before she fell over. It would take another eternity for her to properly manipulate his perceptions of her. The mind was nothing if not complex, and Serana was already drained from saving Eira’s life the previous night, but she had to keep going, and she had to do this right. This was a man’s mind – his being, in many ways. She had to be careful.

Fortunately, finding her own imagine in the priest’s mental plain proved trivial; she was, after all, prominently ingrained as the bitch who broke his arm and set him on fire. She accepted the small blessing for what it was and started laying down her own web of benevolent lies. Her fatigue intruded constantly but the work helped her concentrate.

Her eyes opened at long last as she left the world of the mind and entered the waking world once more. She found herself disoriented, crouching over the priest rather than standing before him. Or had she always been hunched over like this? She could no longer remember.

The world moved on its own as her legs gave out. She slumped to one side and pitched toward the ground before someone caught her. Eira was mumbling as Serana tumbled into her lap. Her head lolled about drunkenly as she tried to focus on Eira's face.

“This feels familiar,” she mumbled.

“Lucky me,” Eira chuckled. “Are you all right? You were like that for hours.”

“Had to undo,” Serana started, then forgot where she was going with it.

“It’s all right.” Eira looked at something next to her. “Did it work?”

“What?” she started, following Eira’s gaze. She was looking at an old man passed out on the ground next to her. “Oh. Yeah, I think so.”

“Well then, I think you’ve earned a little rest. Why don’t you lie down for a bit?”

“I am lying down,” Serana slurred indignantly. What was Eira talking about? She was comfortable where she was. She was still wondering why the woman was being so dense when her vision fuzzed out.

 

Eira watched Serana drift off, her eyes fluttering closed as though the lids were weighed down with stone. She found it far too humanizing to be comfortable. Serana was supposed to be like the wind in winter: cold, uncaring, and unstoppable. She was not supposed to get worn out after a long day and pass out in Eira’s waiting arms.

Neither was she supposed to be so light. Eira carried her to one of the bedrolls she had laid out near the fire and set her down as gently as she could. It was not exactly how she had imagined their adventure going but she did not feel like complaining about it. No one was trying to kill her over it. Not yet, anyway. Eira wondered if Serana’s father would have approved.

She walked back to the fire and wrapped herself in her cloak, settling in so she could keep an eye on both the wilderness and the sleeping vampire. The fire burned low and Eira kept it alive by poking at it with a stick. Thoughts of Serana’s father should have kept her mind on track. They had gotten lucky finding their Moth Priest. Now he would know someone was working against him, and he could not possibly miss the absence of his only daughter. When Eira had met him, he had not struck her as the forgiving type. He would come for them, force Serana to return home with him, and probably click his heels as he stepped over Eira’s corpse to retrieve her.

It was not the best time to be caught up in personal problems. Eira knew that, and yet her eyes still strayed.

_Where were you when I was eighteen?_

The innocent joke now stabbed at her, hot pins of guilt shooting through her veins as she closed her eyes. She pulled her cloak tighter and stared out at the darkened world, loathing herself. She stayed that way for hours, doing little more than watch the stars twinkle overhead. There was nothing to see. Nothing moved in dark and only stirring the fire gave her something to do. The world may as well have been empty except for their little shelter.

It was a few hours before morning when Serana finally stirred. She sat up, holding her head and looking terribly confused. Her eyes settled on the old man before drifting over to Eira. She was as unreadable as ever. After a long stare broken only by Eira’s awkward smile, Serana got to her feet and shuffled toward the fire.

“How are you feeling?” Eira asked as she got closer. She still felt the guilt coursing through her blood as she spoke.

Serana plopped down beside her, massaging her temples. “My head feels like it got split open and pieced back together, but other than that pretty good.”

“I bet,” Eira chuckled. She stirred the fire once more, exciting a few lingering flames to poke through the lair of ash. They did little against the biting cold. “At least it worked, right?”

Serana groaned, brought her knees up, and let her head sink down between them, hands clasped behind her head. If exhaustion had a face, Eira was looking at it. “If it didn’t, we’ll have to move to plan B.”

“Oh?”

“Beat him until he reads the scroll for us.”

Eira laughed. “If I had known that was an option, I would have been fighting you to go first.”

She did not come out of her ball but Eira saw Serana’s back move up and down with a few good laughs. Eira looked toward the crumpled old man. She knew it was not his fault but she still did not like him very much. He had nearly killed her, after all. She figured she was entitled to a little hatred after that.

Her eyes returned to the snowy landscape beyond the fire but Eira’s thoughts remained with the girl sitting next to her. She was a friend, and that was all that mattered. Whatever other thoughts she might be having, she needed to put them aside. Serana needed her help. She needed Eira focusing on keeping her alive.

“I’m sorry,” whispered the wind. It took Eira a moment to realize Serana had been the one doing the whispering.

“What for?”

“You were almost dead this morning,” Serana said from her ball. “And it’s going to get worse. My father knows what we’re doing now. He’s going to be coming for us.”

“I know.” Eira stared bleakly into the darkness. It was going to be a hard fight. Probably the hardest of her life. A smart person would have walked away at the first opportunity. A smart person would not wait around to see how many stab wounds she could survive.

The silence was stretching and Eira could tell Serana was nursing her own doubts. Eira put on a smile. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I knew what I was signing up for.”

Serana did not reply for a long while and Eira had begun to think she had fallen asleep again before she spoke. “You don’t have to keep following me, you know.”

“What, and let you run off on your own?”

“After we have him read the scroll,” Serana said quietly. “You can stay at the fort or go wherever you want to go. I can handle this on my own.”

Eira smirked. “I know you can.” She turned to find Serana’s eyes fixed on her. “But I’m going with you.”

“Why?”

Eira opened her mouth to give a cheap, flippant answer, then stopped, deciding instead to search the world outside for a better one. Why was she here? Why was she not off ridding the world of the monsters that stole her life away? She had found purpose in that before. Did it no longer matter? Did her wife no longer matter?

“I spent the last eight years trying to kill someone,” Eira said slowly. “It feels good, trying to keep someone alive for a change.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

Serana had her chin resting on her knees and was staring off into the distance. Just like Eira had been. “I don’t need to,” Eira said, her voice light and the words easy to speak. Serana turned back to face her. “You’ve saved my life twice now. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

A little smile tugged at the corner of Serana’s lips. “I think I can live with that.”

Eira was searching for something clever to say when that little smile turned cheeky.

“I could use someone to soak up a few fireballs for me.”

Eira worked up an exasperated sigh. “And here I thought we were about to have a moment.”

“You’re not my type,” Serana said flippantly. “I only go for the young and stupid, remember?”

“I think I’m still young by your standards,” Eira said indignantly. “And I’ve got plenty of stupid.”

Serana gave her a nudge with her shoulder that nearly knocked Eira flat. “Yeah, you’re right. You’ve still got plenty of stupid.”

“Damn right,” Eira grumbled as she tried to regain her balance. She was glad to have the normal Serana back. These touchy-feely moments suited her no more than they suited Eira.

Serana went back to staring out into the darkness. To her eyes, it must have been clear as day, and it must have been nice to get a break from the blinding light bouncing off the snow all the time. Eira should have been more grateful. They travelled during the day to suit her needs, even if that meant constant torment for Serana. She should thank her for that. It was not every day one met a courteous vampire.

“How did you become a vampire?”

Eira did not know why she asked it; it had just popped into her head and went skipping right out her mouth before she could stop it. She saw Serana shiver as soon as she asked and immediately regretted saying anything. She had nearly backed off completely when Serana sighed and indulged the idle, insufferable curiosity Eira had once damned in her.

“It happened a long time ago,” she began softly. “My family and I were devoted to Molag Bal. One year I was chosen as an offering on his summoning day. It was an honor to be chosen. I was thrilled. I remember the white dress they made me wear, the way the air crackled when he came into this world. Then…”

Her voice cut out as she tried to continue. Eira cut in before she could work up the strength for another try. “It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me.”

And she didn’t. Eira had seen that look on the faces of other women. She knew that kind of pain.

Serana swallowed hard and nodded. “After the ritual, I was turned. My family, too. The three of us were pureblooded vampires. It was the highest honor we could have imagined. And I don’t think any of us knew what to do with it, really.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. For a long time, it was just the three of us alone on that island. It was… peaceful, really. Quiet.” Serana’s voice turned almost wistful as she went back to what must have been happier days. “My mother taught me about alchemy, sorcery, history – everything I wanted to know and more. I thought she was the wisest woman in the world. She was always indulging me, always pushing me to learn more. There were more books in the castle than I could have read in centuries. I was determined to get through them all, of course. Each one was unique, like its own person. They all had their own story, their own voice. I don’t think I ever really wanted to leave the island.”

She was playing with the cuffs of her gloves as her eyes focused on something only she could see. Eira did not press her. She deserved to take her time in this. After a while, that wistful look began to fade away, and a sigh crept between her lips. “And then my father found that damn prophecy. It seemed like it happened overnight. He became obsessed and drove my mother crazy. She started acting differently, too. She was distant. She kept to herself and was always shooing me away and… well, that was life. Until she took me to Dimhollow.”

Eira had no response. Her own mother had her locked up in that crypt? “I’m sorry,” she said. A better woman would have had a better line, she was sure.

Serana faked her way through a smile. “Yeah, it’s definitely been a bad thing, on the whole.”

“You almost sound like you regret it.”

Eira flinched as Serana’s eyes flashed. For a split second, she thought Serana was going to rip her head off. But the look passed, and in its place was a very thoughtful expression. “No one’s ever asked me that,” she said quietly, staring at her boots and playing with a patch of snow. “I don’t know.”

She kept kicking that snow patch, nudging it this way and that with her toe until her eyes hardened. “No. I don’t regret this. My family might not understand this gift but I do and I’m damn sure going to use it the right way.”

“I’m sorry,” Eira said, watching the fire blaze in Serana’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Serana gave her a kind smile without dimming her fire. “We all have our demons, Eira. Now you know mine.”


	7. A Hero's Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana return to Fort Dawnguard with the Moth Priest

One bandit. Was that so much to ask for? Just one dumb bastard to come screaming out of the underbrush waving a cleaver and screaming about eating a baby?

Much to her shame, Serana’s stomach actually growled at the thought. She should have eaten that bandit thrall back at the cave. Instead, she was here, stomach rumbling and looking like something out of a children’s nightmare. Eyes burning like fire and skin as pale as snow, her vanity shrank from the image even as her pride shown through. Or it would have, had she been anywhere else.

As it was, Serana kept her eyes glued to the road and stayed close to Eira. The Dawnguard were out in force, their crossbows loaded and every boy and girl among them looking very eager to let fly. Eira seemed more annoyed than afraid. Serana felt the same way, of course; she had been through too much to be afraid of a few peasants. It was just that, after living so long and surviving so much, the thought of being cut down by one of those peasants was nauseating to say the least. It happened all the time in the real world, the masterful falling to the lucky, but it was never that way in the stories.

Their Moth Priest looked just as uncomfortable. He had regained consciousness just outside the valley Fort Dawnguard called home and now walked uneasily beside Serana. It seemed he remembered attacking EIra but could not remember why, nor did he recall Serana’s invasion of his mind. The broken arm had been his own fault – Serana did not argue that – and had been all too eager both to sing Serana’s praises and apologize profusely to Eira for however he had hurt her. Eira had taken the man’s apologies with rather little grace but Serana could hardly blame her.

A wooden gate swung open as they approached. The woman guarding it, her red hair and fiery eyes looking somehow colder than the rest, softened only slightly as Eira approached. Eira might not know it but the people here respected her. Serana would need to ask her what she had done to earn their loyalty so quickly, but she suspected the answer was simple; three days ago, Eira was the only one not wallowing in pig shit and dreaming of death and glory.

Once they were inside the palisade, they were joined by a group of what must have been the most accomplished farmhands. Six of them walked a good distance back, crossbows up and loaded like all the others. As soon as they began creeping closer, Eira whirled on them.

“I swear, if you’re going to follow us in then you had better point those damn things someplace else,” she snarled. “Because when one of you trips and shoots me by mistake, you had better pray to every god above that it kills me. Otherwise, you’re going to be meeting them all. In very small pieces.”

Serana almost laughed when all but one of the boys complied with superhuman speed. She had never seen her so worked up. Perhaps she felt the same way about death by peasant.

The last kid refused to lower his weapon. His hand shook on the release. He could not have been older than sixteen but the hate in his eyes was plain enough. Serana found herself wondering where the bolt would strike when that shaking hand of his slipped. From how he was trembling it could fly practically anywhere. He might even manage to hit Eira by mistake. Serana considered freezing a vital piece of his crossbow just to keep him from shooting. Maybe she could get away with it unseen.

“Put it down, kid,” Eira growled. “Whoever you lost, she didn’t take them from you.”

The boy’s hand kept shaking. Serana caught Eira’s eye and shook her head just slightly. The last thing she wanted was a fight breaking out in the open like this. She could hardly defend herself if that happened, let alone Eira and the Moth Priest. If Eira was determined to teach the kid a lesson, she could at least wait until they were inside. Or in a position to make a run for it.

Eira held Serana’s gaze for a moment, her face making it plain exactly how she felt about the whole thing. Serana could offer no encouragement and together they stumped off toward the castle gates, counting the steps until they were safe inside the lion’s den.

The six soldiers followed them through the doors, the jumpy murderer still right behind Serana. Eira dropped back to remain beside her in a gesture of protection that was both touching and sickening. The Moth Priest walked out in front, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few seconds in search of Serana’s approval.

That angry bald man was waiting for them in the main atrium. Serana felt her teeth grinding at the idea of another conversation with the angry idiot. Normally she would have made a show of killing him and the other Dawnguard would have known not to stand in her way, but she was not sure how Eira would take the gesture. Anyway, this was not the time for such dramatic shows of force. She was outnumbered and had enemies both in front and behind.

Two more soldiers flanked the angry man and they both looked ready for a fight. The first was a woman holding a crossbow, her posture indicating a confidence with the weapon few in the world could obtain. If she fired, she would not miss. The other was a man so large he probably wrestled bears for fun. The maul in his hand could not have weighed less than Serana but he looked ready to lift it from the floor and knock a hole in one of the stone walls. His eyes were fixed on Eira. Serana thought she could see respect in them and wondered if there was enough in there to stop a swing of that hammer.

“You’re back,” the bald man growled. It was a mercy he addressed Eira because Serana had just begun noticing the vein now pulsing in his forehead. Her self control was tested as she stared and willed herself not to laugh.

Eira seemed immune. “Nothing gets passed you,” she muttered before raising her voice back to normal. “We found your Moth Priest for you. He’d already been captured by vampires. You’re lucky we happened on him when we did.”

“He was captured?” the vein raged. “He could be their thrall for all you know!”

That may have been true for everyone in the room except Serana. And, well, Eira. Being stabbed in the chest had probably been a dead giveaway. “He’s not their thrall.”

Serana regretted it as soon as she opened her mouth. She had just wanted to take the attention off Eira. Now she had that crossbow woman pointing a bolt at her head and Isran fingering his sword while his eyes glared daggers.

“How do you know?” he asked slowly.

“I checked him,” she replied vaguely. The less they knew the better. “Being enthralled leaves traces. And I had to make sure we were safe in bringing him back.”

“Explain.”

Serana bit back a sharp retort, forcing herself to play the humble guest a bit longer. “It’s a combination of wards. Easy to spot, if you know what you’re looking for. I’m not sure what more proof you need. If he was their thrall, we never would have gotten this far. He would not have let us take him, I promise you.”

That much was true; he had not let himself be taken. Eira could attest to that. The man turned to the Moth Priest. “Is this true?”

“It is,” the priest said, stepping forward awkwardly. “I had a full complement of Legion soldiers escorting me from Dragon Bridge. The vampires – they killed them all. When I woke up, these two had rescued me. They promised they would get me here safely. And, well, here we are. I guess.”

Serana could have asked for a more eloquent thrall but she could hardly blame him for his brevity. She had seen the memories of that ambush and had experienced the pain he felt at every death he had been forced to see. Those men and women had been with him for years.

“And the broken arm?” the bald man asked. He looked to be calming down a little even from that tiny piece of the tale.

“During their rescue,” the priest explained. “I tried to help in the fight. For all the good it did.” He looked toward Serana in shame who gracefully pardoned him with a kind smile. He was telling the truth again. It had done him no good fighting Serana. All it had done was make her angrier than she already was.

“You did everything you could,” Serana said, her voice as sweet as honey.

The bald man looked annoyed but had calmed down enough to put up his blade. “We’re just glad you’re safe, uh…”

“Dexion,” the priest finished.

“Dexion, then. Sorine, would you take Dexion to get his arm seen to? He’s had a long journey, and I’m sure could use some rest.”

The woman with the crossbow lowered her weapon. “Right this way, sir, if you’ll follow me.”

Dexion did not follow her. “Actually, I would love to have a look at this Elder Scroll. If that’s all right?” His eyes were alight as he turned to face his very uncomfortable master. “I would very much like to see what it has to say.”

Serana kept her face unreadable even as she sorely wished she had broken both his miserable arms.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Eira asked, careful to conceal the worst of her surprise. She knew what the scroll could say just as well as Serana.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for a moment like this,” Dexion said, all but salivating as he stared at the scroll. The look alone would have been enough to set Serana on edge. But she had no idea what was on the scroll. If it contained the passages about her blood, she would not leave this room alive.

Eira knew it, too. She was tense, though Serana doubted anyone else could see it. What would Eira do if the Dawnguard tried to kill her? Would she risk death protecting her?

They were about to find out. “Okay.” Serana removed the Elder Scroll from her back and handed it to Dexion. “If you’re sure you’re ready.”

Dexion took the scroll with the careful reverence one would expect from a devout priest holding his holy text. “Everyone, please, I will need room for this,” Dexion warned.

Everyone in the room backed off. Serana and Eira took the opportunity to put themselves near the exit. Their six guards still blocked the way but had grown complacent with the conversation. They were more interested in the scroll, now, and that let Eira and Serana move out of their line of sight. It would still be hard to get out the door alive, let alone without killing any of them. Perhaps Eira would understand if Serana had to do away with one or two.

But Serana would try. And she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Dexion took a deep breath, braced himself, and opened the scroll. The whole room went dark. The torches guttered on the walls, their flames suddenly devoid of light. A new, unnatural light burst from the scroll to draw bizarre patterns on the far wall. Shapes and lines and dancing geometries Serana could not make heads or tails of now traced their way over the gray stone.

“I can see the prophecy. It speaks of the darkening of our world, an end to the tyranny of the sun. Darkness will mingle with light, and the night and the day will be as one. I also see a bow. I know this weapon, it is Auriel’s Bow. With this bow, the prophecy will be complete, though it does not say how. Wait, there is more. There are two other scrolls. These others contain the location of the bow, and the way to complete the prophecy.”

The darkness in the room lifted, and the patterns faded. Dexion closed the scroll and sagged like he had not slept in ages. No one spoke until the bald man walked over to Dexion and supported him on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Dexion. You’ve earned a rest. Gunmar, Sorine, would you show Dexion to his room?” the pair moved to support Dexion and led him down one of the side passages.

“So we need to find these other scrolls,” Eira said as they left.

“Yes. We need to get to Auriel’s bow before my father does.” Serana hoped her anxiety did not bleed too heavily into her tone. She wanted to get out the door and put as much space between herself and this room as possible. It was blind luck that the prophecy had not referred to her blood and she was still coming down from a mild panic.

“Agreed,” the bald man said as he crossed the room. “I will see what I can dig up on their locations. But the College of WInterhold is sure to know something. I’d start my search there.” He stopped a few paces in front of Serana. “I still don’t trust you. But you’ve done more than anyone else here.”

“Gee, thanks.” It was out of her mouth before Serana could stop it.

Isran frowned but said nothing, turning instead to Eira. “Find those scrolls and bring them back here. Then we can move on the bow.”

“Willing to work with a vampire and her thrall?” Eira asked petulantly. Serana had the sudden urge to give her a good whack to the back of her thick skull.

“I’m willing to trust you about as far as I can throw you. But I know you’ll go to great lengths to keep your little friend here safe,” the man growled, jerking his head toward Serana. “If you fail, if her father finds the bow first, I’ll kill her first.”

 

“So, if you’re not feeling up to visiting the College, we might have a second option,” Serana said as they wound their way through the mountains.

“Is this something the Dawnguard wouldn’t approve of?” Eira asked. She was beginning to notice a pattern in their adventures. With any luck, it would break before she got another sword stuck inside her.

“Something like that,” Serana said, urging her horse up beside Eira’s. “It’s my mother. She had one of the Elder Scrolls we’re looking for back before I was locked away. If we’re lucky, she still has it.”

“Sounds perfect. Where is she?”

Serana’s expression soured. Eira had known she had no idea but had felt the need to ask anyway. “Hiding from my father, no doubt.”

“And he’s had a thousand years to search with no luck. I don’t suppose there’s a secret hiding place under your bed?”

Serana opened her mouth to make a smart remark when she stopped, struck by the profound, stupefying simplicity. Eira shook her head. “No. You’re joking.” Serana just smiled wider. “No. No one in their right mind would do that.”

“It makes sense,” she insisted. “Before she left, she told me she was going somewhere he’d never look.”

“Her home is the first place I would search!”

“You, maybe, but not my father,” Serana said in triumph, as though that should have convinced anyone. “He must have sent men scouring the world, sure she would flee as far as her legs could carry her. She always was the clever one.”

“If he’s that thick, maybe we have a chance after all,” Eira muttered.

Serana glared and EIra shrank beneath her cloak. Insulting her father was Serana’s right, no one else’s. Eira should probably have apologized but instead tried to weasel her way out of it. “Even if she’s there, how are we going to get in? It’s not like we can just walk in the front door and start poking around.”

“I know a way in. There’s a side passage leading to the castle’s foundations. No one uses it anymore and I doubt my father remembers it’s there. We can use that to get inside and start looking around.”

Eira groaned. “Every time we do something together, one of us ends up bleeding out on the floor.”

“It’s what makes our time together so special,” Serana said happily.

“Special is one word for it.”

“You’d prefer another?”

Eira snorted. “I can think of a few. Painful comes to mind. Sanguine. Violent.”

“All right, all right. Listen, we don’t have to go looking for her. We should probably visit the College anyway, if only to see if they know where the last one is. Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Eira had to laugh at that. “Luck hasn’t exactly been our strong suit so far.”

“Have a little faith.”

In truth, Eira considered herself very lucky to have survived this long. Serana should have been the death of her when they first met, not the one bringing her back to life after some demented old fart stabbed her in the chest. The fact that staying alive had been such a struggle seemed only justified. The world had to balance out the miracles somehow.

“All right,” Eira said with a sigh. “Winterhold it is.”

Serana nodded, pleased at having won the argument. As she rode along beside her, Eira could not help but wonder if the College was just a way to avoid seeing her mother again. Assuming she was even still alive. But those concerns were far away, and Eira had pressed Serana for more than enough of her life story. For now, they had a long way to go. Once they were out of the mountains, they would turn north, passing Riften, Windhelm, and a whole lot of dangerous people who would think nothing of robbing two women alone on the road.

Perhaps that was the best way to describe their time together; not lucky or cursed or special, but looming. Ominous. Like walking toward a horizon of black clouds and booming thunder and knowing deep in her heart that it was impossible to stay her feet. She would keep going because it was the right thing to do, ignoring the sense of dread that came with every step. If she had learned anything in life, it was that everything worth doing always came with that same dread, that deep fear of failure.

Eira let her horse lag just behind Serana's. The vampire did not seem to notice. Instead, she watched the trees, her eyes eventually fixing themselves on a distant bear as it wandered the mountainside. Eira had not been afraid of death for a long time. She held no loyalty to the Dawnguard and had quickly grown to detest Isran even before she had met Serana. She was not afraid of failing them. That nagging fear came from her, from the woman that should have killed Eira the moment they met and instead had saved her life. It all felt too familiar. Eira cared about her but she could not even protect her from one old man with a sword. Could she save her from her father? From Isran, if the time came?

Serana was still watching the bear as it began to settle down, sprawling itself over a rock and sunning itself without a care in the world. She had not taken the threat seriously - Serana did not seem to take any threat seriously - and had not brought it up since leaving the fort. Maybe that was for the best. Eira settled in her saddle and tried to push it from her mind. There was nothing to worry about now. All they had to do was find this magic bow before Harkon and his legion's did. If they failed, they would find themselves fighting an army of vampires in a world without the sun. Isran would be the least of their worries.

And, if he did come for Serana, Eira would be ready for him. She had already lost her wife because she had not been there to save her. She would never make that mistake again.


	8. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After stopping for the night, Serana tries to learn more about Eira's past

They made good time on the road north. Clear skies and the burning agonies of the sun made life almost pleasant as they passed Riften. It could have been summer. But by evening Skyrim’s eternal winter had made itself known once more. Gray clouds and a constant, lazy snowfall added to the drifts that grew taller the further they walked and were over Serana’s head by the time they stopped for the night.

Eira led her and the horses between the hills and down to a stone ruin now all but swallowed in the deepening snow. By some miracle she managed to negotiate the four of them inside and into the shelter of the stone ceiling. Serana did her best to conceal her shivering as she set out their bedrolls and Eira got a fire going. She had to admit, she did admire the woman. She knew what she was doing out here, both in the wilds and in a fight.

She had demonstrated as much when a gaggle of bandits had appeared in the road. Serana, thinking herself the savior of the pair, tried to make short work of them with blade and spell. Eira had beaten her to the punch. By the time Serana had finished dealing with her own assailants, Eira was twirling that sword of hers in one hand, stepping nonchalantly over three dead bandits at her feet. Serana found herself wishing she had been able to watch the fight. Three on one all grouped up like that? It would have been quite a show.

The fire crackled pleasantly as Serana seated herself beside the flames. EIra chewed placidly on her dinner, her back against a stone wall and her eyes on the trail of smoke now leaking through the ceiling to join the wintery sky far above. This was how they spent much of their time; comfortable silence and deep thought. Perhaps that was unfair. Serana deserved to know a little about who she was travelling with. And, in the days after her thoughtless questioning about Eira’s wife, she thought she had earned the woman’s friendship. Eira had certainly earned hers.

“So,” Serana asked, trying to sound conversational. “That snow is awful.”

Eira chuckled. “Lucky you’ve got such a nice cloak, huh?”

Serana glared. She already knew Eira was too smug for her own good. “And such a wonderful guide to help me. Tell me, am I the first traveler you’ve frozen alive or is this just what you do for a living?”

“It’s not that cold,” Eira waved irritably at her. “Look, I made us a fire and everything. And the horses aren’t complaining.”

The horses remained tied in a nearby shelter, their saddles off and their fodder piled at their hooves. Serana had half a mind to will one into nickering if only to spite Eira. “Perhaps not, but they lack the sense the Gods gave women.” She gave Eira a meaningful look. “Most women.”

“Most – I like to think I’m incredibly sensible. Look, I survived _you_ so far, didn’t I?”

That was a fair point. “So far, but most sensible people don’t take three-on-one odds with a sword and live to talk about it.”

Again Eira showed off her smug side. “You noticed that, did you?”

“Only the last of it,” Serana admitted. “I am curious, though. Do you always pick such terrible fights?”

Eira sighed. “Well, yes, actually. I’ve picked a one-woman war on all of Skyrim’s murderers and thieves, so I suppose I’m used to it.” She paused for a moment, pressing her fingers together as she decided how best to split the hair. “I guess that’s not quite true.”

“Oh?” Serana tried not to lean forward eagerly but she desperately wanted this woman’s story.

“There are a few out there. People I’ve met. People who do terrible things for a good cause,” Eira said carefully. The smile tugging at the corner of her mouth held neither mirth nor joy. “As it turns out, sometimes death is the only way to solve a problem.”

That was a familiar philosophy even to Serana and it took only a moment for her to pick out the origin. “The Brotherhood? You worked with the Dark Brotherhood?”

“You asked where I learned to fight,” Eira said lamely. Serana felt like pointing out that a group of contract killers did not seem like Eira’s best friends. Not after what happened to her wife. “I was in the Legion for a long time so I knew which end of the sword to stick people with, but the Brotherhood was something else. After what happened to my wife, I came to Skyrim. I wanted to learn from the best. I wanted to be able to hunt down the people who took her from me. There were others – the Companions – who taught me how to use a blade, but that wasn’t enough. The Brotherhood could teach me how to hunt him down. How to kill him.”

Serana tried not to stare but the admission hit her like a ton of bricks. She had thought Eira a good woman – heroic, almost – and it turned out she was nothing more than a knife in the dark. Was that who she was under all the sarcasm and acts of valor? Just a killer? “Why did you do it?” she finally asked.

“I wasn’t myself when I signed on with them,” Eira admitted and she looked miserable enough for Serana to believe it. “Not that I sought them out, exactly. It all happened pretty fast. I was working on a bandit gang outside Whiterun. I killed most of them easy enough but the leader took time. Got into a nasty swordfight but I came out on top. As soon as I finish, some guy in black comes shrieking out of the shadows, yelling up and down about how I stole his kill. He tried to kill me and I didn’t see any choice but to defend myself. I cut him down.”

“You bested a Brotherhood assassin?” Serana asked, impressed and unable to hide it.

“It isn’t all that hard. It’s… you’re not hearing the story in order. I joined the Companions when I came here. You know them, right? Good warriors. Good people. That’s where I learned how to fight with a sword. Assassins know how to kill. If you can get them into a standup fight, you stand a much better chance of surviving. So that’s what I did; it wasn’t hard, he was already good and mad, so I just stood my ground and that was that.”

Watching Eira shrug off what would have spelled certain death for almost anyone else in Skyrim was almost unreal. True, Serana had a good eye for skill, and she had known right away that Eira had more than her share of it, but she now wondered if she had sold her rescuer short. Had she thrown that knife back when they first met, perhaps it would have landed after all.

Eira was plainly waiting for a response as Serana digested the story. “So how did you end up joining them?”

“Well, as it turns out, killing one of the Brotherhood is both a mortal sin and a fantastic interview,” Eira said cheekily. “Their leader tracked me down, made it plain that she could have killed me where I stood, and offered me a job.” Her smirk turned itself downward and her tone dropped to the floor. “Not exactly my finest hour.”

Serana paused, waiting for Eira to address the obvious before asking the question herself. “I thought joining the Brotherhood was for life.”

Again, Eira smirked. “Usually, yes, but I was something of an exceptional case. I did good work for them. It turns out the Brotherhood deals with nasty people, and those nasty people usually have a lot of other nasty people protecting them. You know the type: bandit leaders, mass murderers, the kind of people your average citizen wants dead. Those are the guys the Black Sacrament targets, not the guy down the street who won’t keep his dog from barking.” She shrugged easily. “And it turns out those are the guys I wanted to go after anyway.”

“So you took the hard contracts.”

“That’s right. Turns out it was a pretty good way to make a name for myself, too. The leader of the Sanctuary liked it. We actually got along pretty well. She was,” Eira made a show of choosing her words carefully. “Not what I had expected. She wasn’t evil. Not really. Just someone who had a bad run at life and found her own way to deal with it. She knew I wasn’t going to stay there forever and I think she did her best to keep my contracts to evil men.”

Eira paused, staring at the fire. Serana found herself asking the question softly. “And did she?”

“No.” Eira’s voice was a dead whisper. “There were people who didn’t deserve it. Good people. And I killed them. Because I thought it would justify the means. As long as I was doing more good, learning more, getting better with a sword, I could make it all mean something. I could save the world on my own. And the people I killed would be just a memory. My burden.”

Serana said nothing. She should not have found it so appalling. She had killed more than her share of innocent people – she was a vampire – and she carried her own weight with her every day. She should not have expected more from Eira. Somehow she had just started seeing her as a hero. As someone more than human.

“I don’t know how many I killed,” Eira said quietly. “Or how many I saved. I couldn’t tell you if it was worth it. I think I’ve done more good in my life, but I don’t know. What I do know is that I’ll never forget their faces. And I’ll never stop fighting to make what I did to them mean something.”

It was something Serana was all too familiar with. She gave Eira what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I understand.”

And she did, no matter how much she wished she did not. “I’ll bet,” Eira murmured. After a long moment, her eyes came back up. “After a year or so, I asked for a contract on the man who killed my wife. The leader I was talking about took pity on me and agreed.”

“And they just let you go?” Serana asked.

“Not quite. You’re right, joining the Brotherhood is for life, but they let me leave in order to fulfill the contract. I don’t know why and I didn’t ask questions. I just walked away. I was actually stupid enough to think they’d let me go. The Companions took me back and I tried to wash away the blood. I spent years doing that.” Eira shook her head. “I thought I was getting somewhere. Then the first whisper in the dark came. I thought I was having a nightmare. But no. She was back. The Brotherhood came and found me, dug me up, and told me to kill again.”

Now Serana was leaning forward. “Who was it?”

Eira shrugged. “The same kind of scary monster I always went after. This one was a necromancer, actually. Creepy little bastard was raising the dead from their graves, and with the war going on, there were plenty of those for him to choose from. I… may have been a little overzealous with him.” She shivered at that and moved just a little closer to the wall, away from the light. “I didn’t want to go back. And I blamed him for all of it.”

“It doesn’t sound like he was an innocent one,” Serana said, trying to be comforting.

“No. No he wasn’t,” Eira said, her voice making it clear exactly how much Serana’s words had helped. “But that didn’t matter. The Brotherhood hadn’t forgotten me. And I don’t think it ever will. And that terrifies me.”

Eira shifted in her cloak. “That’s part of why I left the Companions. I started to feel guilty about what I was doing while sleeping under their roof. It was ridiculous, of course, the Companions are almost as bad as the Brotherhood. They just do their killing in the daytime and sing songs about it when they go home.”

That caught Serana off guard. She had thought the Companions were storied heroes. “What are you talking about?”

“Very few of the Companions are in it for the greater good. You’ve got a few knights in shining armor, but most of them do it for the glory. The money. It’s a lot like the Brotherhood; someone comes to you with someone they think deserves to die. You get paid, you go kill someone, you go home. Sometimes I wonder how many of the Brotherhood killers I met would have been Companions if their lives had been just a bit different.”

Serana was not sure she wanted to empathize with yet another group of killers. She considered her own family as murderers but of a different sort. Adding the Dark Brotherhood to the list of exceptions had not been in her master plan when this adventure started. But Eira was no cold killer, and so she could not help her curiosity.

“Like who?”

Eira shook her head. “Sorry, but that’s not something I’m going to tell anyone. Ever.”

“Scared of the shadows?”

“Depends on who’s hiding in them. There were some sad stories there. Let’s leave it at that.”

There was reason enough in that. They had more than their share of sad stories between them. Serana sat back, content that at least a few of her questions had been answered. And EIra had answered them well. She had done things in her past she was not proud of and had tried to atone for them. She had gotten through it alive. That was something Serana, however grudgingly, could not only respect but hope to emulate while she played out her own redemption story.

“That was actually where I met my friends,” Eira continued, surprising Serana as she did. She had come to think of Eira as a closed book, which she supposed made herself the obnoxious scholar insistently thumbing the pages.

“Your friends?”

Eira smiled sadly. “The ones I told you about in Dimhollow.”

Oh. Of course. Of course they had met the same, universal end that it seemed found everyone in Eira’s life. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. And they died for something they believed in.” Eira said it with conviction but Serana could see the pain in her eyes. She missed them terribly.

Serana was no stranger to grief but that made her no expert on helping others through it. She tried to get Eira talking about them. That usually helped. “They were Companions, then?”

“Not quite. Vigilants. They probably wouldn’t approve of my current company,” Eira said with a sly grin. “But I never did take them too seriously. I just met them in the Companions. They hired us to help them clear out a den of Forsworn in the mountains.”

“Forsworn?”

“Yeah, lovely people, really. Big on animal pelts, beheadings, and worshipping demons in exchange for strength and magic. There were probably fifty of them all told against me and my two new friends.” Eira’s grin turned from sly to fond. “They were a damn good pair. After we were done, we all figured we would be family until the end of days. They heard my story and agreed to help me avenge my wife.”

Eira’s face turned somber as she returned to the present. “They were at the Hall when your – when Harkon’s men attacked.”

Serana felt a pang of guilt. It was absurd, she had nothing to do with the attack, but it was still there. Her father had been looking for her and Eira’s friends had died because of it. Eira could try and sugar it as much as she wanted, Harkon was still her father, and Serana had been the reason he had ever stirred from his island. She was the reason he even had this power in the first place. Everything he did, every life he took, was on her shoulders.

Out of nowhere, Eira’s expression brightened. “Which led me to Dimhollow. If I can’t have Harkon, I can at least run around Skyrim with his daughter.”

Serana burst into laughter. “You can. And we are all alone out here. Very clever of you.”

Eira looked pleased with herself and settled back to study Serana. She looked pensive but more content than Serana had ever seen her. If Serana were in her place, she might be wondering if this was all worth it. She would not have blamed Eira for deciding it was not. Of course she was not about to tell her to leave, either.

“And that’s my story,” Eira said finally.

“That’s pretty crazy,” Serana admitted. “How long have you been in Skyrim?”

“About eight years now, I think. Why?”

“And you managed to locate and work with some of the most renowned and feared killers in the world in that amount of time?”

Eira shrugged. “Learn from the best, right?”

“I don’t remember you learning from me,” she teased.

“I’m here now, oh wise and humble teacher. Show me the way,” Eira said with a rather dramatic eye roll.

Serana grinned. Humble or not, she knew she was good. And she was here to teach, should Eira decide she wanted to learn. Her cause was just; avenging someone she loved and making the world a brighter place. That was enough to convince Serana to impart a little of the knowledge she had gained over the centuries.

Which left the end of the tale. “You never found him, did you? The man who killed her.”

Eira shook her head, her face going old beyond her years. “No. I’ve been so close so many times. It’s maddening, really. But no, he’s still out there. Somewhere.”

“If you’d like, I could help you look for him,” Serana said cautiously. “Once this is over. I’d understand if this is something you want to do alone of course, but if you wanted a hand, I think I owe you a favor or two.”

A quiet smile spread over Eira’s face. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Serana nodded and shrugged uncomfortably. She supposed that was the natural way for a vampire to repay a mortal: offer to kill someone for them. It made her sound callous and cold and everything she tried so hard to cultivate in her image. It should have pleased her, as it seemed to please Eira. Perhaps she should just leave it at that. This was something important to Eira and she was offering to help her out. The fact that it was not the usual way of expressing gratitude simply fell in line with the rest of their rather odd relationship.

Eira began to laugh quietly, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Serana found the smile infectious. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I was just imaging what she’d think of the whole thing. Me sharing my very own tomb with a vampire.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Serana said, rolling her eyes. “It doesn’t sound like a good idea at all.”

The quiet laugh grew a bit louder. “Story of my life,” she said easily. “She always said the smartest thing I ever did was tell her I she was right. That actually happened a lot so maybe I’m smarter than I look.”

Serana smiled at that. “Sounds like a sharp woman.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Drove me crazy, actually. When we met it was – have you ever seen two cats in a sack? Well, if you threw that sack in the river and filled the river with Mudcrabs, you’d have a good idea of what we were like.”

“Oh, love at first sight, then?”

“It might have been,” Eira admitted happily. “Everything I did, I did for her. Well, actually, in the first few months, it was to spite her, but I like to think my heart was in the right place.”

Serana found herself smiling and shaking her head as Eira beamed bright enough to shame the fire. “How did you ever get so lucky?”

“I don’t know. We met when I was in the Legion. I was on a tour near Valenwood. She’d been there a while, gotten good with the locals, healed their kids and the like. They taught her how to shoot in return. I showed up, bow in hand, thinking I was the best archer in the world. You can fill in the rest.” Eira kept smiling, her eyes going distant as she lost herself in the memories. “A few nights before I rotated out, I decided to go see her. I went to give her a piece of my mind about some old grudge. Found her at home and… well, one thing led to another.” Eira had the decency to redden a bit. “Love at last sight, let’s call it.”

Serana chuckled along with her and let her continue the tale. “So off I went feeling like I’d won the lottery and vowing to find her one day. Two weeks later, she’s walking into my tent claiming she’s a transfer. I thought the Gods had finally started to smile on me. The whole world seemed perfect. I transferred back to the City, took a desk job, and waited my enlistment out when her discharge came around. She got a job in the city using the healing arts she’d picked up. She tried to teach me, but I was hopeless. If she had been there with you in Dimhollow instead of me, she’d probably have snapped her fingers and you’d have been right as rain.”

The smile began to fade as that universal end began to intrude. Serana found herself grasping at questions she could ask, details she could beg for just to keep the moment alive. She had never seen Eira this happy. It shouldn’t have to end. Not like this.

“A few years later, she didn’t come home. I didn’t understand why. I went out looking for her. Her shop was closed. No one had seen anything. I scoured the city top to bottom, looking for anything the guards missed. That’s when I found the bodies.” Eira’s face was cold and gray as death. The light had all gone and not even the fire could warm her now. “A few days back, she’d treated some bandit bastard with a knife wound. She’d patched him up and when the guards came, she turned him over. One of those guards turned out to be crooked. Sprung his buddy from the cell and turned a blind eye when he decided to go after the girl who put him there.”

Eira’s grin turned vicious. “She got two of them. I followed the blood and found the third. I… I made him tell me where they took her. They were holed up just outside the city in this old ruin. The place was half underwater. The smell was awful. There were probably about twenty of them when I snuck in. I don’t know if there were more, I didn’t count. I just killed them. I went all the way to the bottom.”

Her eyes fixed on a bit of the floor across the room. She looked like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, like she wanted to cry but all the tears had already gone. She looked helpless, cold, and alone. “They tortured her. I tried to save her, I did. I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t good enough to bring her back.”

The words stopped coming then. Eira’s lips worked but nothing came out. Serana leaned closer and whispered to her. “I’m sorry, Eira.”

Eira shook her head. “I could have saved her. It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Serana promised. She wished she could say something better, something that would heal what had been done.

“I’ll never forget him,” Eira said, steel returning to her voice. “I can’t. I see him every night. I came to Skyrim hunting him. I killed people for the Brotherhood just for a chance at finding him. Nothing else matters. I don’t even know if he’s alive any longer but I can’t stop. It’s the only thing that means anything to me now.”

She shook her head, the last of the memory fading as the world settled back around her. Eira was staring at the floor, trying in vain to push everything back down beneath the veneer of an apathetic wanderer, someone whose sarcasm and bitter sense of humor fit perfectly with the world around them. Serana should have understood. She should have been able to help.

“When this is over,” she said softly, her mind more than made up. “I’ll help you find him. I promise.”

It was not the perfect thing, but it was the least of what Eira deserved. And it was something Serana knew how to do very well. If it was the last thing she did in this life, she would hunt this man down and give Eira and her wife the justice they deserved.

“Thank you,” Eira whispered.

Serana hoped that was enough. They sat in silence as Eira regained control of herself and Serana worked over what she had just heard. Her old concerns seemed trivial where they were not foolish. She could trust Eira with her life, just as EIra had trusted Serana with her story. Eira was not a murderer. She was not interested in power or wealth or any distraction that obsessed so many mortals. All she wanted was her life back. The way Eira had smiled when she talked about her was more than enough to convince Serana she was a good woman.

One last question struck her and she found herself blurting it out without thinking. “What was her name?”

Eira looked up in surprise. “What?”

“Your wife. You never told me her name.”

For a brief moment, that faraway look returned, and Eira smiled the way she always did when she talked about her. “Natalie.”

“Natalie,” Serana echoed, a smile coming over her face. It was the smile of knowing a beautiful secret. “When Dexion stabbed you, you were out of it for a long time. You kept whispering something while I healed you. I didn’t know what it was until now. Natalie.”


	9. The First Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana leads Eira into the heart of the College of Winterhold where she discovers the story of the very first vampire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all knew it was coming, and here it is: the obligatory origin story for Serana. I feel compelled to warn you that, if you don't know the story already, it is rather graphic. I have glossed over the details (they've been boiled down to six words) but the main points are there because they are a part of Serana's past and play a significant role in her character. I am sorry if including this offends you, but the fact that she is a survivor is something I very much respect about her character and I would not change it (even if I don't understand why it was necessary).
> 
> As always, comments of all sorts are welcome, both here and on Tumblr. Thank you for reading.

Eira swayed with the slow clopping of her horse, her eyes fixed on Serana’s rippling cloak. They were not exactly a talkative pair normally but this morning had been especially quiet. The dream had come just as surely as the tide and Eira had been as powerless as ever to stop it. Only, this time, it was different. Brighter. She had remembered more than just those last few moments. More memories flitted on the edges of her mind, like specks of light that danced in the corners of her eyes, vanishing every time she tried to look at them.

That had been Serana’s fault. Eira had not thought about those happier times in years. She had all but forgotten them, their stories as foreign to her mind as they were to Serana’s. Telling her story – her whole story – had never been her intention, and she would forever harbor the deep suspicion that Serana had done something to her brain that was not entirely natural. The way the words had just poured out of her could not have been caused by anything but the darkest sort of magic.

She wanted to believe that. It was easier than accepting what had actually happened. She was not supposed to be growing comfortable with anyone, least of all Serana. And this was hardly the time to indulge herself. They were trying to save the world, after all, not hiking around Skryim just to enjoy the sights.

Windhelm came and went without a word. Serana showed no sign of breaking the silence and, with Eira unwilling to ask for a rest, they could very well have continued on to Winterhold as a pair of travelling mutes. Eira wondered if Serana had grown bored with her now that her tale was no longer a mystery. It was a silly thing and it did Serana a disservice to even consider it. More likely she was just giving Eira a chance to work through her long-repressed feelings of loss and the obvious shock that came from revisiting those terrible memories. The vampire showed her a surprising amount of compassion. She should have been grateful.

Well, she had already taken a sword in the chest for her, so that had to count for something.

Serana lifted an arm to shield her eyes from the sun. It surely did little good; even Eira found herself squinting as their horses crested the next rise. Their path had taken them up a coastal road that now lay mostly buried beneath fresh snow. Off the path it was even worse and the sun seemed to shine from everywhere at once. Beyond the rolling drifts of snow, far below the glaciers and the sunken lanes between, stretched the sea. The morning sun struck sparks on every wave and made the sea more brilliant than the stars on a cloudless night. Between the stars drifted the icebergs, like so many moons set in place by the Gods themselves.

It was all too much for Serana. She tried her best to enjoy the view but Eira could plainly see how much it hurt to look even for a moment. Eira wished she knew a spell that would help her. Perhaps if she had brought a scarf or a bit of cloth she could have offered to tie it over her eyes. But no, all of Eira’s clothes were thick and heavy. Skyrim left no room for finery. Not out where it was cold and vampires stalked the hills.

The College appeared near midday, levitating in that unnerving way high above the shore. It was not really floating, of course, it was just that the rest of the world had fallen away around it, and only an impossibly thin bit of rock still connected the building to the ground far below. Eira could not imagine living in a place like that. She would have panicked and ran the first day, sure the world would come to its senses one day and send the whole thing tumbling right into the sea. As they tied their horses outside the inn, Eira thought long and hard about staying with them.

The drop proved even more unnerving up close. As Serana strode forward to the crumbling stone bridge that would lead them over the abyss, Eira stole away for just a moment to stand at the edge of the cliff. Surely the fall looked worse from the heights but even that knowledge did not help in the moment. She found a nearby clump of snow and kicked it over the side, watching it tumble and break apart in the open air before it was lost from sight completely.

At the moment, she might have taken another dinner with Serana’s father over visiting the College. Having satisfied her curiosity, Eira hurried back to join Serana. The bridge connecting Winterhold to the College was one stiff breeze from falling into the sea but still some angry mage stood to block the way. She was probably here more to keep people from falling over the side by accident than to keep them away from the building. The town’s population seemed no more than twenty miserable, stubborn snow farmers, two hardy chickens, and a milk cow. Even Eira’s upbringing looked exciting by comparison.

She reached Serana just as the vampire lost her patience. The mage on the bridge was barking “Only those truly accomplished in magic can cross!”

Eira stopped a few paces back. She still had her own blood all over her clothes; there was no need to add someone else’s to the mess. Serana raised one hand toward the woman’s face and flicked. Light burst from her fingers. The mage staggered back as a tiny star zipped through the air and struck her square on the nose.

The little ball just bounced off. The mage staggered back in shock, waving at the light to drive it off but no matter how hard she tried, it was always one step ahead, bobbing placidly about as her arms flailed. She looked furious. Eira thought about intervening on behalf of the poor woman – she was lucky Serana had not turned her inside out – but thought better of it and stayed where she was.

Serana smiled pleasantly. “My apologies for startling you, but this was how young mages gained entrance when I was here last. Were you not here in those days? It’s been so long, you see.”

Eira shuffled and made coughing noises. The angry mage probably took it as laughter but it was more to keep Serana in line than poke fun at the hapless stranger. Sure, they could blast their way into the College without much effort, but did they really have to pick a fight with everyone they met?

Serana caught her drift and settled in, a happy smirk still plain on her face. Their angry mage now grumbled something that Eira took for an apology and led them over the bridge. If she noticed Serana’s ball of light still hovering above her head, she chose to ignore it. Eira managed to ignore how high up they were just long enough to give Serana a glare. Ancient horror or not, she was too damned good at playing innocent.

Well, it did serve the mage right, challenging Serana like that. They finally reached the College’s gates and passed inside the thick stone walls. The whole place felt like another world, and Eira began to understand why people continued to live here. One could very easily forget about the whole floating-in-the-air business when surrounded by so much magic. The courtyard was lit by floating globes of blue light that defied gravity as surely as the College itself. Eira wondered if that was on purpose.

Mages in hooded robes passed under the stone arches or tramped through the fresh snow, their slippers somehow keeping their feet dry. Many held books or argued with one another in dramatic, flailing gestures that seemed a language all their own. Perhaps the slippers did not keep the cold out, and melting snow between their toes was simply beneath their notice. The scene was impressive, really, until Eira noticed one or two who were flailing and arguing all by themselves. One passed close by, muttering to herself in tones of purest hate, and Eira’s awe now began to turn to fear.

Their guide left Serana and Eira at the gate, swatting at the globe of light once again as she scurried off through the courtyard. She heaved open one of the metal doors at the far end and vanished from sight, leaving the door open long enough for Eira to clearly see one mage wave his hands and turn another into a horse.

The awe vanished completely, and Eira was left afraid. These people were clearly nuts.

Serana did not seem to care. She also ignored Eira all but clutching her arm as they made their way toward the main building. She must have been familiar with the place as she asked no one for directions and instead made straight for a staircase. Eira followed, keeping her eyes glued to the floor as much as possible. No good would come from asking what the big, blue globe of death was doing, crackling and sparking in the middle of the College atrium. They just needed to ask their questions, find the Elder Scroll, and get out before the whole place went to pieces because tracked snow on the wrong carpet.

They stopped a few floors up and found themselves inside the largest library Eira had ever seen. The vaulted ceiling rose high enough overhead that even a giant would have needed a ladder to touch the top, and every wall was lined from top to bottom with books. Serana made a low sound that could have been a sigh and Eira thought she heard her whisper “Every time.”

Eira looked to see her shaking her head slowly. “What?”

Serana spent another long moment staring at the shelves – the high ones no one could possibly reach – before answering. “Nothing. It’s a nice place. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Eira asked dryly.

“We have a job to do,” Serana said petulantly. “Can you stay focused?”

“You were the one enjoying the sights.”

Serana glared. “Some of us can appreciate the finer things in life, like how many lifetimes I could spend here getting lost in another world. That’s all. And I can do that without losing my head.”

Eira had to smile at that. “Thinking of giving up? We could always just stay here. Look, they’ve got chairs, too. Beats sleeping on the ground, I’d say.”

“I couldn’t force you to stay. It’d be cruel.” Serana sighed dramatically. Eira stood patiently, waiting for the mouthy dead woman to deliver her punch line. “I know you have trouble reading, after all.”

“Lovely,” Eira said, walking toward a shelf that looked less intimidating than the others. “Then why don’t you go find out where this Elder Scroll is hiding? Don’t mind me, I probably couldn’t keep up with the conversation anyway. Too many big words.”

Serana looked entirely too pleased with herself as she walked off. At the far end of the room stood a long desk and, behind that, what must have been the library’s grand overlord. An aged Orc loomed over the counter. He seemed less impressed by the vampire gliding across his polished floor than by the hapless oaf now trundling toward his precious shelves. Eira could almost hear his voice in her mind telling her not to spill anything on the tomes.

Fine. No one wanted her here, so Eira would just disappear in the corner and let Serana do the heavy lifting. She walked toward one of the shelves, eyeing a few more comfortable chairs for later use, and plucked a book from the wall at random. The cover had faded to a gray smudge and the binding looked frayed to the point of falling apart but it did not crumble in EIra’s hands so that was a good start. She carefully propped the cover back with a thumb, expecting nothing more than dust and smudged ink. What she got was clear, prosaic text, as black and crisp as the day it had first been penned. She almost groaned aloud. What had she been expecting?

The book proved a poor choice. From the first few lines, Eira deciphered that it was a dissertation on where mana came from. The idea intrigued her, but the words did not. Lacking any formal education and no real use for words longer than two syllables, Eira quickly found she was in over her head and put the tome back.

She peeked over her shoulder in frustration. At least Serana was not watching. Actually she was leaning over the table making little gestures with her hands. The Orc, angry no more, looked to be smiling and nodding along. Eira wondered if she was casting a spell on him or just talking about books, bonding over their favorite volume of _The Many Colors of Grass._

At least she was not here to see Eira’s moment of defeat. It would give her time to pick out another book, hopefully one with more pictures. She found a few copies she recognized but passed them over. For all she complained, she did enjoy reading something new. Her hobby had died the same day every other part of her life had. Maybe she could try picking it up again. It did not mean she was moving on. Not really. She was just trying to be human again. That was what Natalie would have wanted. Right?

Her head made arguments while her heart twisted and kicked in her chest until Eira tired of both. She found an innocent-looking one and pulled it from the shelf. The title was more legible this time but she could still not make heads or tails of it. Again, she opened the book, this time coughing as dust poured between the pages. There was a notation on the first page this time, something about Daedra worship and...

Eira started. This was the about first vampires; how they were created. _Oh shit._

She nearly threw the book out the window in surprise. This was what Serana had gone through. Whatever had scarred her so badly was within these pages. If Serana caught her looking at this, Eira might never leave the room alive.

Again she glanced over her shoulder. Serana was still speaking with the Orc. She was still smiling. Eira turned back to the pages. This was her chance to learn what had happened to Serana. Her fingers played at the pages. This was something Serana had left buried for a reason, just like Eira had kept her own past hidden. That was, until Serana had convinced her to share it. They were friends. And Serana had offered to help her. If Serana was uncomfortable talking about it, that was okay, Eira would not press her, but she could help. If she knew the story, she could do something to make it better.

Eira thumbed the page and began to read, convinced her intentions were pure even if her methods were not. Serana would understand.

Molag Bal was a petulant little demigod. He was not content to abide by the laws of mortality. Creating vampires appeared to be his way of putting one over on Arkay, probably as a way for his most loyal followers to defy even the Gods themselves. The book went on to give a detailed account of how he did the deed. His first victim was not what Eira had expected. Some young woman from nowhere, young and beautiful and everything you expected in a storybook.

He did not ask. That was not the way of things, not for him. He kidnapped her, took her to the middle of the forest, and –

And tortured, raped, and murdered her.

Eira closed the book slowly, staring at its cover. What kind of sick monster would do that to an innocent girl? Just for his own vanity? She turned the book over in her hands as though the answer were scrawled on the back. There was nothing. And it had happened long ago. So many more had gone though that same indignity. And they had survived.

Serana had survived. How? Eira turned to look for her.

She found her gone from the desk. Serana had always been able to sneak up on Eira, and now she stood just behind her, her eyes haunted. Eira felt her jaw working but nothing came out.

Serana spoke for her. “Now you know,” she whispered.

“Serana…” The words died in her throat. What could she say?

She didn’t answer. Without a word, Serana turned and left, making her way down the stairs and out of sight. Eira hurried after her. She had to run to catch up with her and even then she only managed to find her halfway across the bridge back to Winterhold.

Eira cursed herself in silence as Serana untied her horse and began leading it out of the city. Eira followed on her own mount a good distance behind and without a clue where they were going. She should have known better. Of all people, Eira should have known better than to look. Of course Serana would be hurt. Of course she wouldn’t want someone digging up that part of her life, especially without her consent.

Not long after leaving the city, Serana turned her horse onto an unmarked path leading into the mountains. Eira lacked the courage to ask where they were going and instead tried to guess. She could think of nothing in the area that could have possibly hidden something as important as an Elder Scroll. There was a tiny village about a day’s ride through the mountain passes but that was all. She found herself staring up at the tallest mountains in Skyrim and wondering what was at their peaks. Perhaps that was where they would find their prize. It would be fitting, finding it ensconced in clouds and protected by some great, lumbering dragon god.

Her musing always died as her eyes settled back on Serana. She should say something; apologize for being such an idiot and promise her that what had happened changed nothing about her. It was madness to even think about it. This was Serana. Serana was not some helpless girl in a book. She was fire and lightning and flying ice that impaled men where they stood. If a dragon god was waiting at the end of this trail, it would be the sort that bowed and scraped before its old friend, the Daughter of Coldharbour that had long ago humbled it in single combat.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the vampire herself dismounted and led her horse through a particularly tight canyon. Eira followed her through, squeezing through the far side in time to see a pack of wolves flee down the hill before them. Serana strode forward, her horse following obediently without guidance or urging, ignoring the wolves and standing at the end of the pass. She peered up at one of the tall mountains as if searching for something.

Eira plodded silently up beside her and waited. She had already told Serana she would see her safely home, even if she did not trust Eira to do it, and that still held true. She was not about to shy away because she had done something stupid.

“I volunteered for it.” Serana was still staring up the mountain but her eyes were on something farther off than those distant peaks.

Eira was stunned. “What?”

“Only the most accomplished and the most beautiful girls are offered to him on his summoning day,” Serana said hollowly. “I was chosen because I was the best. It was an honor.”

“That doesn’t mean you asked for that,” Eira said, her voice sounding almost pleading to her own ears. “Serana, he –“

“I know what he did!” Serana snapped. Her eyes flashed and she rounded on EIra in a mad fury. “And I asked for it. All of it. I fought for it. I killed for it. I earned it.”

Eira tried to back away but stumbled and fell. She scrambled backward, pitifully raising her hands in surrender as Serana stalked toward her. Serana kept advancing until she was standing over Eira, her fists clenched and lightning crackling between her fingers. There was pure murder in her eyes and Eira did not blame her. She did not dare take her eyes of Serana’s. She did not even dare to move.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Eira said, her voice pleading but steady. It was as much to hide her own terror as to keep Serana from killing her. She swallowed hard and tried more quietly. “Serana. Please. You don’t really want to kill me, do you?”

Serana blinked, a flicker of confusion breaking her rage for just a moment. The anger began to fade from her eyes. The lightning stopped arcing and she took a step back from Eira’s prone form. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Eira pushed herself to her feet and watched as Serana walked toward the horses. Eira’s had panicked and bolted down the hill but Serana just raised her hand and back it came, trotting up the hill with the slow deliberation of something not quite awake. Serana kept going, settling down beside a rocky outcropping a bit further down the mountainside. It was an exposed place to camp, but then again, Eira doubted either of them would get much sleep tonight.

She followed Serana to the little shelter, putting her back against the rock to sit beside the tormented sorceress. The horses plodded over, too, their eyes a little too wide and unfocused to be natural. “I told myself it was worth it,” Serana whispered. “Even as I blocked it out, I told myself I was becoming something more; something better than mortal.”

Eira’s heart went out to her. She might not have known exactly what to do to make it better, but she had an idea of how to start. She scooted a bit closer and put her arm around Serana’s shoulders. The poor woman was so far gone that she let Eira do it. She even let her head fall to the side and come to rest on Eira’s shoulder. Even then Eira could think of nothing to say.

“I told myself it was worth it,” Serana mumbled.

They stayed that way for what must have been hours. The cold soon set in and Eira set about making a small fire but quickly came back to Serana. Again she rested felt Serana’s head rest softly on her shoulder. Eira waited, watching the flames and wondering what words she could possibly speak to make this better.

There were none, of course. She did not know how she felt, she could not say it was all worth it, and she knew better than anyone that there was no higher purpose behind it. No words of inspiration could ever take away what had been done. All they could do was to keep going, never letting that one moment define them. No matter how horrible or undeserving of it they were, they had to move beyond it and survive in spite of it.

For Serana, that meant something different. She had been singled out because Molag Bal thought she could handle it. For what it was worth, he was right; Serana was about to do far more with his gift than he could possibly imagine. She was going to save the world with it. And if Molag Bal ever did come back to haunt her, Eira would make sure he learned just how deep a mortal blade could bite.

There were more frightening things in this world than Daedric Lords. Eira knew that in her bones, and she would make sure anyone who came after Serana learned it, too.


	10. Blizzard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira leads Serana to the Dwemer ruin containing the first of the Elder Scrolls they need to recover

The next morning they set out along the mountain path, Serana leading the way once more. Eira had stopped lagging behind and now rode beside her. She still looked worried and had yet to say much of anything beyond “Good morning” but she seemed less afraid than she had yesterday. That was good. As angry as Serana had been, she did not want to hurt Eira. Even if she had gone digging where Serana had explicitly told her not to.

And Serana was old enough to admit that she had handled it poorly. Eira had been kind to her, even after she had tried to drop half the mountain on her head. Even so, her gut still tied itself in knots as she thought of Eira turning the pages of the damnable book. The memories still stung and Serana wanted nothing more than to hide from them. It should not have been so easy for a stranger to find her worst nightmares in printed form.

Serana watched Eira out of the corner of her eye. There was no point in hiding from it anymore, she supposed. And Eira really did look nervous. Serana tried to perk herself up. “You’ve been quiet this morning.”

Eira jumped a little at the sound of her voice. She did a good job hiding it, though. “Just enjoying the air,” she said easily.

“You’re not curious where we’re going?”

“As long as I don’t know, I can pretend we’re just out for a walk,” Eira said, a smile finding her lips even as her eyes betrayed her. “Something tells me this Elder Scroll isn’t lying on a golden beach somewhere.”

Serana had to smile. There was a reason she liked Eira. She might not have the greatest sense of humor, but she worked well with what she had. “No, not exactly. Perhaps you can tell me what we’re in for.”

Eira frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“See that peak way up there?” Serana pointed to the mountain they were riding toward. The clouds near its peak swirled with menace and she thought she heard Eira groan. “There’s a Dwemer ruin up there. Do you know it?”

“Yes,” Eira said miserably. “You’re not serious, are you?” Serana shrugged and Eira took it as her cue to start explaining. “Of course you are. Well, I’ve never been inside, but I know about where the door should be. I think, at least. These places all have their little quirks with doors hidden by solid rock or locked by some kind of puzzle. They’ve even got lifts that run all the way to the surface. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find one of those.”

The explanation failed to lift Serana’s spirits and she felt only justified in saying so. “So you don’t know where the door is.”

“Or what it looks like,” Eira admitted cheerfully. “Don’t worry. I’ll muddle through.”

“You should put that on the family crest.”

“If I had one, I would expect it’s already there,” Eira said easily, tossing her hair and rubbing at the back of her neck. “Probably looks great, hanging above the mantle. Some great, blue chicken with a sword in one claw and a white flag in the other.”

Serana felt her lips creeping their way toward a smile. “Fortune smiles on the prepared.”

“I thought you’d like that,” Eira said with a grin.

She had a point about the flag. Eira had known not to pick a fight with Serana when they had first met. Her crest might not have been a blue chicken, but it would surely have both sword and healing hand. “So, about this ruin?”

“Well, once we find the entrance, I expect your guess is as good as mine,” Eira said, shrugging. She took a languid look over her shoulder. “We’ll just have to survive long enough to get there.”

Serana followed her eyes. “You saw something?”

Eira nodded. “Looked like one of those Death Hounds you vampires are so fond of.”

So they were being followed, now. Serana had the sudden urge to knock Eira off her horse for adding one more thing for them to worry about. “They do provide silent companionship, something I’d never appreciated until recently.”

“What can I say? I’m a people person.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “How close are they?”

Eira turned around in her saddle again. “They’re keeping their distance but not as much as I’d like. They wouldn’t have any trouble following us into the ruin and the last thing we need is someone making a lot of noise down there.”

Peering up at the mountain, Serana tried to catch any glimpse of the hidden entrance Eira had described. There was probably no point, especially if it turned out to look like just another boulder. They would probably need time to search the mountainside. Even if Eira knew where to look, Serana did not like the idea of being rushed. They would be exposed once they left the cover of the crags they now wandered through, but so would their pursuers.

“We can draw them out if we keep going,” Serana decided. “Catch them in the open before we reach the entrance.”

She was confident enough in her own abilities and would have preferred to fight in the confines of the narrow canyons, but she had learned to trust Eira’s aim. If she could keep her from being roasted by any mages her father had sent, Eira could handle whoever was after them.

Eira nodded in agreement. “All right, but let’s get a move on. I don’t like the look of those clouds.”

She did not need to tell Serana twice. The sky had been gray all morning but the clouds hovering near the mountain were nearly black. Serana urged her horse to walk a bit faster. It was a fool who took the absolute power of nature lightly, and Serana had seen far too much in her time to still be called a fool.

They reached the end of the crags and emerged on the wide-open slopes of the mountain. Serana could clearly see the snow falling farther up the hill and it did not take an experienced eye to see this storm was going to be a bad one. Eira kept a keen watch over her shoulder as they climbed, leaving Serana to worry over the billowing snow and sudden chill in the air.

Serana pulled her horse up short as they reached a rocky outcropping. Eira dismounted, bow in hand, hair tossing lightly in the rising wind. She shielded her eyes with one hand and stared at the distant canyons. Serana could see something moving down there but whatever it was, it was too scared to come out into the open and start a fight. That was probably for the best; Serana was suddenly very anxious to get indoors.

Eira looked sadly at her horse, patting its neck and running her hand through its hair. “Sorry, friend, but I don’t think you’re going to be making it out of this.” She turned to Serana just as she slid off her own saddle. “I can’t take them up into that. And they won’t be much good farther on, anyway.”

Serana understood. Eira backed away and started shooing her horse down the mountain. The beast wouldn’t move. It kept looking to Eira, cocking its head and staring. Eira looked like she wanted to give it a good smack and send it flying but she could not bring her hand down to strike him.

While Eira hesitated, Serana flicked her wrist and cut loose a fireball. The explosion sent both horses screaming and bolting down the hill like arrows shot from a bow. Eira nearly went with them. “Well, I guess that works,” Eira said, laughing as she recovered her wits. Serana smirked. _Bleeding heart._

They started their climb again, Eira leading the way. They had hardly crossed the next ridge before Serana was pointing up the hill. “There, I recognize that ridge. They had a drawing of it. The ruin is just beyond that.”

Eira nodded and kept climbing. Even if they knew where they were going, they would need to circle around much of the mountain to get there. Just looking at the switchbacks and sheer cliffs between them and their goal left Serana feeling more nervous than she had any right to be. This was supposed to be the easy part.

The wind began to whine in her ears. “Looks like a blizzard,” Serana said, praying Eira would correct her.

She disappointed her. “Yeah, a bad one. Come on, we can make it if we hurry. And there’s no shelter out here if we stop.”

“You’ve been through one before?” Serana asked as she hiked. She had never been out in the open during a blizzard and was doing her best to cope with being completely out of her element.

“More than once.” Eira turned long enough to give her a reassuring smile. “If we move fast, we can make it. I promise.”

Serana hated that she trusted her. But she did, and so she would follow Eira up into the falling snow and freezing wind, even as every ounce of common sense she had screamed for her to run.

The snow was falling heavily now and visibility was getting worse by the second. Eira seemed to have picked out a trail and pushed on as fast as the snowdrifts would allow. Serana followed right behind her and tried not to imagine losing her in the blizzard and freezing to death in the open.

The wind began to howl like the shrieks of the damned as they trudged on, covered in the massive wet flakes pouring from the sky. The whole world turned white as they walked. Serana quickly lost sight of the peak, and even the rock face they had been following. Her only guidance was the black blob in front of her, plodding on like it could see though the storm.

She pulled her cloak around her as tightly as she could in a vain attempt to keep the snow out. Wading through drifts of snow that soon came up to her waist, she kept her head bent to keep the flakes out of her eyes. Every few seconds she would glance up to see Eira just ahead, then bend her head again and try to shake the snow from her face before it froze there. It was not long before looking up was such a chore that she would put it off for as long as possible, hoping that the black blob would still be just barely visible through the blinding white.

Putting one foot in front of the other became her world. Left, right, left , right, every step a battle to get through this storm alive. She lost feeling in her feet, then up to her knees. The numbness began working its way up to her waist even as her thighs burned with every agonizing step forward through the snow. She wanted to collapse, curl up, and wait out the storm in a ball. Maybe she could melt a snow cave out of the drifts and hide.

She stumbled as her numb foot struck a rock and went down on one knee, her whole body freezing as it sank into the snow. She tried to get up but her leg refused. She could not remember how to make it move and she did not even want to.

Someone grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She could barely feel the hand gripping her she was so cold. Even her thoughts slowed as she wondered who was helping her up, belatedly realizing it might not be Eira. She did nothing, allowing whoever was beside her to pick her up and carry her through the thickening snow. She tried to get a look at whoever it was but the snow falling straight on her exposed face was enough to dissuade her once and for all. She buried her face in her rescuer’s chest and shivered.

Whoever had grabbed her was not going down the mountain. It was probably Eira carrying her up to the Dwemer ruin, hoping that they would make it inside and she would be proven right. She turned her head enough to see over her knees while still shielding her face with her hood. Through the curtain of white, she caught a glimpse of the remains of a wooden building. It did not make sense; there should not have been anyone up here. She heard the creaking of wooden planks in the freezing wind and felt the person carrying her begin to sway. She wished she could turn to look but her face refused to put itself in the path of the wind.

The rhythm of her rescuer’s strides broke suddenly as she felt her turn and fall backward. The sound of grinding metal reached her ears over the wind as the woman steadied herself, turned again, and leaned backward. More grinding, then nothing. No more wind, no more snow. Her mind worked slowly as her savior set her down on the stone floor. Serana heard things being pushed around on the floor and cracked her frozen eyelids to find a pile of wood in front of her. A figure caked in snow stood in front of her, piling wood and fumbling with a piece of flint. She wanted to reach up, put out her hand and light the fire herself, but her arms wouldn’t move. Her joints cracked as she willed them to move, her body shivering uncontrollably.

The fire crackled to life before her arms would uncurl. She felt herself being shifted, the snow being brushed off of her. She was dragged closer to the fire and felt someone start rubbing her arms vigorously. The sensation of feeling returning to her frozen joints was uncomfortable and painful, but her mind barely noticed. Thousands of needles pierced her as her nerves awoke and began to thaw the chunk of ice that had formed around her brain.

She turned her head to look for Eira, the only person she knew who would drag her through a blizzard to safety. She would be sure to give her hell for insisting they could make it. Sure enough, Eira had laid down beside her and was holding her in her arms. It would have been uncomfortably close if Serana had not been freezing to death moments ago. And if Eira’s body wasn’t so damn warm. She was willing to let it go at least until she could feel her toes again.

Eira’s head came up and their eyes met. Their faces were inches apart. She could feel her breath as they shivered.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Serana said between her chattering teeth.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Eira shivered back. “Most of my joints are frozen, anyway.”

“Good,” Serana said as her entire body rattled and shook. She burrowed deeper into Eira's cloak. So warm.


	11. Into the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana and Eira prepare to explore the Dwemer ruin

The sound Eira’s knee made reminded her of someone chopping down a tree; there was a lot of cracking and snapping and eventually the whole thing just tumbled over in a violent mess of broken limbs. Every bone in her body seemed to have been frozen in place during the storm and not one of them wanted to be moved. Her hands and feet still ached, too, and she caught herself rubbing them uncomfortably when she sat still too long.

At least she had not fared as badly as Serana. She had not moved far since they had escaped the storm and was now hunched so close to the small fire that Eira feared she might fall in. Eira did not turn around to look, instead placing one hand against the freezing metal door. It had been a few hours since they had stumbled in. Eira had recovered first, pushing Serana closer to the fire and trying not to panic as she passed out. Vampires, it seemed handled the cold less gracefully than mortals, but Serana had bounced back quickly.

And angrily. Eira felt the intense burn of Serana’s glare and turned around to meet her gaze. For someone who had just been pulled from the jaws of death, she sure looked ready for a fight. Eira weathered the look with a silent sigh, letting her hand fall from the door as she walked back toward the fire. _So much for gratitude._

Serana’s voice was pure hate. “Once I can feel my fingers again, I’m going to strangle you.”

“And who will carry you to safety the next time you’re caught in a storm?” Eira asked innocently.

“No one,” Serana growled. “Because I’m not stupid enough to try climbing a mountain in a blizzard.”

“We made it, didn’t we?” Eira grinned cheekily. Serana was not amused. She looked thoughtfully at her hands as she flexed her fingers before retrieving her gloves from their place beside the fire.

“Just for that, I won’t strangle you,” she said as she carefully slipped each glove over her hands. “I’m going to tie you to that door and let you freeze out there until you’re all out of smart remarks.”

“I hope you brought a book.”

For a moment Eira thought she was actually going to do it. Serana’s eyes narrowed to angry slits that glowed a murderous red in the firelight. After a moment, that glow softened, though by no means did it fade away. “I suppose I should thank you for saving my life,” Serana said unhappily.

“Yes, you should.”

“Even if it was your fault to begin with.”

Eira frowned. She could hardly argue. She was still not sure why she had pushed so hard to get to the peak before the storm hit. It was a good thing Serana had not asked because a casual shrug seemed likely to get her killed and that was the best explanation she had. Then again, there were few options available. Running back to Winterhold would have put the town in danger if Harkon had attacked in force. Trying to find shelter out in the open would have left them exposed to whatever he had sent to hunt them down, assuming they could even survive the storm at all.

No, this was how it had to be, even if Eira wished it could be different. Still, she did not exactly feel confident in her reasoning, so she hedged her bets. “If it makes you feel better, this wasn’t exactly my first choice.”

“I know.” Serana let out a long sigh before composing herself. She forced out a smile that was much too warm and her voice turned inhumanly soft. “Thank you.”

“You made that seem terribly painful,” Eira said with a chuckle.

“It will start being terribly painful if you don’t start appreciating it,” Serana grumbled.

Eira held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. You should probably save your thanks, though. Those doors have a mountain of snow on the other side, so the only way out is back there.”

She gestured toward the far side of the chamber. Serana followed her gaze toward where the light of the fire vanished and the inky blackness of the Dwemer ruin took over. If she looked hard enough, Eira could see the far end of the chamber flickering in the light but nothing beyond that. No doubt Serana could see it plain as day. She wondered if this would end just like it had the last time they were underground, where Serana had so kindly taken her by the hand and led her through the dark. Something told her that would not be happening. Maybe it was the glare.

Serana had turned back toward her looking peeved but unshaken. “That’s just as well. We did come here for something, remember?”

Eira did remember, but that did not mean she had to be happy about it. Already they had pushed their luck. The fire now crackling on the floor had been fueled by broken carts and crates left by the last expedition to try their luck in the ruin. Judging by the ripped canvas from their tents and the cobwebs lining the walls, they had been gone a long time. Normally the sight would not have bothered Eira, but she knew what dangers lurked in the darker places of the world. Whatever had killed the previous tenants was probably stalking in the shadows. They were just lucky it had not been here to greet them or their bones would have been the latest addition to the refuse heap.

Seeing Serana undeterred by the threat of a violent death, Eira continued. “It won’t be an easy climb down. This place is bound to be full of Falmer and if they find us, the Dwemer guardians won’t be far behind. Even if we survive them and all their traps, we might just die of starvation. We don’t even know where this Elder Scroll is hidden.”

She watched Serana nurture a nasty-looking grin on her face. “One of us might die of starvation.”

Eira looked imploringly toward the distant Gods. “Why?”

Serana did not drop her grin. “So, you’ve been through this kind of ruin before, lamb?”

Great, now she was food. She tried to ignore the firelight gleaming off Serana’s exposed fangs. “Once or twice, you lunatic. If we move quietly and watch our step, we can get through with no problem.”

“You’re awfully confident,” Serana chuckled. Her voice was still warm but her eyes were pure murder. “For a meal, that is.”

Eira put her hands up a second time. “Fine, you win, next time we won’t climb the mountain in a blizzard.”

“Next time?” Serana asked innocently.

“Yeah, I’m sure this won’t be the last stupid thing we do together.”

“I don’t know about that.” Serana cast a lazy glance over her shoulder. “I know where the scroll is, after all. And I’ve been through my share of ruins. Maybe I don’t need you at all, anymore. It’s been a while since I’ve fed, you know. I think I’ll let you live for saving me, but after a few days, when I start getting really, really thirsty, I’m not sure I can promise anything.”

Eira put on her resigned face as Serana looked back toward her. “Wonderful. I’m truly fortunate to be trapped underground with you for the next several days.”

“Let’s pray it’s not that long. Though I’m sure we’ll have plenty of things to distract us, lamb.” That evil grin returned to Serana’s face and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Eira rolled her eyes. Was she stuck with that name? She could have at least picked something more dignified. Well, everyone dealt with danger their own way, she supposed. It just would have been nice if Serana dealt with it in a more normal way. “You’re right about that.”

Serana watched Eira, letting her grin fade as she looked back toward the darkness. They would have to go sooner or later. Eira kept expecting to see something peering around the corner, spying on them. These places did not get a lot of visitors and the creatures that dwelled here were not known for their hospitality. While Eira was busy spooking herself, Serana popped to her feet. At least one of them was excited.

“What’s the plan?” Serana asked, her voice still lively and confident.

It actually instilled a bit of confidence in Eira, too, knowing she was ready to take on the whole damn mountain with her. “Well, I’m guessing the traps here are all still alive and well. The Dwemer were clever like that, so watch your step and try to move with me as much as you can. It’s hard to spot them if you don’t know what you’re looking for. And we’ll need to be quiet. Once we start moving, one loud noise and we’ll have the whole place up in arms.”

“I’m liking this plan,” Serana said easily. “I could do with a little peace and quiet.”

Eira shot her a glare. “Thanks for the inspiring last words. Just follow my lead, okay? And stay a good ways back.”

“Is that for my protection or yours?” Serana asked, cocking her head.

“Both.”

“That’s very sweet of you.”

“Well, I don’t take every girl out to places this nice,” Eira chirped. “You’re special.”

Eira took another moment to sling her bow over her shoulders. Serana fiddled with her gloves a bit more but looked otherwise unconcerned. That left Eira to check her blades one last time, making sure her dagger was close at hand and ready to be used. She made sure her sword was strapped tight, muffled her canteen with her scarf, and shook her pack one last time. There was no use delaying things any longer. If they waited too long, it would not be the loose rattle of her pack that gave them away, but the growling of her stomach.

Serana must have sensed her nervousness. She said nothing, giving Eira a small but reassuring nod as she waited near the corner. Eira saw her pointedly peer around and turn back with another nod. All clear, then. It was time to go.

As promised, Eira led the way into the gloom. She took her time, letting her eyes adjust. They halls were not completely dark, so that was something. The Dwemer may have left them long ago but their machines still hummed with life even after ages of neglect. Serana waited quietly behind her as she inched down the corridor.

She stopped as Serana’s hand grazed her shoulder. Eira looked back and raised an eyebrow. Serana gave her a tight smile, looking almost sheepish. “Sorry. Here, let me help.”

The shadows lifted as the hallway began to glow. Eira felt a mad panic and nearly yelped before she realized the light was not actually light at all. Serana was putting a spell on her eyes. It was slow, subtle, and so delicate that it could only be described as art, and when she was done Eira could see every corner in perfect clarity. She turned to Serana, unable to hide her surprise.

“Should have done it when we first set out,” Serana whispered, still looking embarrassed. “Can you see all right?”

_All right?_ Eira nearly laughed. “Yeah,” she managed dumbly. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

Serana took her hand from her shoulder and shrugged. “It’s nothing. A bit of old magic. Never thought I’d use it on someone else again.”

“Again?”

Another smile tugged at Serana’s lips, this one wistful and distant. “Not the best time for old tales, Eira.”

Eira was sorely tempted to turn around, sit down by the fire, and beg Serana to indulge her, even if her last adventure into Serana’s past had nearly ended with her dead in the snow. She had always imagined Serana as a loner. But this someone else must have trusted her a great deal. A spell like this could very well have ended in Eira going blind if someone less skilled than Serana had been doing the casting. And she did it in complete silence. She knew just where to stop before the light became too bright.

But this was not the time. Eira gave her a nod and mumbled her thanks one more time before turning back to the task at hand. They had a world to save, after all.

The Dwemer ruin was just like the others Eira had visited. Everything was gray stone and gleaming bronze either as great pipes that hugged the walls or as filigree on the ancient carvings. The steam pipes ran the length of the hall and were large enough for a grown woman to crawl through, branching off to the floor and ceiling to keep the whole mountain alive and well even if there was no one there to appreciate it. Here and there a small flame burned green or blue inside its metal cage. Eira could see no fuel for the fire but she had long since learned that such small things were the least of the Dwemer’s marvels.

They had hardly turned the corner before Eira held up her hand and dropped to a crouch. The clattering of tiny metal legs echoed over the soft whirring of the Dwemer’s machinery. Eira knew the sound well. The Dwemer had used small, spider-like creatures to keep their cities running. That usually meant fixing pipes or clearing rocks, but Eira had seen what the little things could do to a living creature if they decided to pick a fight.

The clatter grew louder as it scuttled through one of the pipes to Eira’s left. If it popped out in the hallway, either she or Serana could make short work of it, but the noise would give them away. They could not afford a fight, however short it might be. So Eira hunkered down and prayed the little devil had somewhere else to be right now.

Someone answered her prayers. The scuttling began to fade as the spider moved down the hallway and off toward the entrance. Perhaps it was going to clean up their fire or unblock the door. If so, they had gotten lucky in leaving when they did. Eira waited a few more moments until she was fully satisfied that they were safe before motioning for Serana to follow. She chanced a look back as she did and saw Serana grinning happily, plainly loving the danger.

The passages were mercifully deserted, only the occasional tapping of metal legs in the pipes to break the rhythmic hissing of steam. It had been soothing when they started out but the longer she was exposed to it, the more Eira found it unnerving. It was like the whole mountain was breathing around them. She tried to focus her thoughts on the moment, watching the floor for traps and the corners for skulking monsters. Those were the thoughts of someone intent on staying alive.

They were reinforced when they came upon their first abandoned campsite. Eira padded over to one of the shredded tents and peered inside. The bloody bedroll was enough to convince her that the previous occupant had never left the ruin. There was nothing left in the scattered belongings that they could make use of and even if there was, Eira was not sure she wanted to disturb the remains. Serana had sidled up behind her and was looking off toward the side of the chamber where a few scattered bones and a human skull lay in the corner.

“Falmer,” Eira whispered.

“Falmer?” Serana repeated.

“Vicious little bastards. Blind but very clever. You’ll see,” she breathed unhappily. “Just stay close. And watch your step.”

Eira began creeping away before the smell became overpowering. Serana followed a moment later, her eyes shining the way they did when she had something clever on her tongue. At least the threat of certain death kept her from saying anything.

Examining every square inch of ground as they walked proved more than enough to distract Eira. She disarmed what she could, guiding Serana around the plates and tripwires she could not, and kept her mind on getting through the next hallway alive. Her newfound vision and the rather talented mage who had gifted it to her remained far from her thoughts.

She intruded the moment Eira realized she had missed a plate. Serana had nearly stepped on it when Eira managed to stop her, grabbing her by the arm and steering her around the lethal blades that would have sprung from the wall. The only reason Eira had noticed was because she had seen the trap itself waiting to be triggered. Serana glared and said nothing, plainly furious that she had missed the signs. Eira knew her well enough to say exactly how much of a perfectionist she was.

Eira, of course, was gracious, and did her best not to take pleasure in her discomfort. Well, not too much pleasure. It was not every day she got to put one over on the ice queen of the dead.

The high was short-lived. Not long after Serana had nearly gotten chopped to pieces, Eira was pushing her way through a door when she felt the stone shift at her feet. A moment later she was on the ground, Serana pushing her against the floor as fire sprayed the room. Even through Serana’s ward, Eira felt the blistering heat and tried to push herself farther into the stone. The sound of Serana cursing was followed a moment later by the fire dying in a great rush of wind.

Serana pushed herself away from Eira, peering around the room as Eira stared pointedly at the ceiling. She should not have made that kind of mistake. That kind of mistake was made by other adventurers; the ones Eira picked clean of their potions and gold while saying little prayers and bemoaning their foolishness. She was not the one making such lethal mistakes – and lethal it would have been if Serana had not been there to save her.

When Serana looked back at her, Eira got a clear look at that confident smile she loved to hate. That was the trouble with having such a promising student, she supposed. While it was comfortable and even flattering to have such a competent partner, Eira never would learn to accept the feeling of ineptitude her sharp wit engendered.

Serana held out a hand. “Want me to dust you off, lamb?”

Eira swatted it away and rolled to her feet. “Next time, just let it kill me,” she hissed back.

They moved through the door, over the charred stone and into the next chamber as the clatter of metal legs again broke the silence. Eira could plainly hear it scuttling about in the chamber they had just left. Soon the trap would be reset, the ashes cleaned. They had gotten lucky this time. She could not be sure how much time had passed since they had stumbled in from the cold; she could not even be sure how long they would need to be down here.

Once Eira felt they had moved far enough from the scene, she picked the lock on one of the smaller side chambers and ushered Serana inside before sealing the door behind them. It would do them both good to hole up for a few hours. They would need to be at their best if they wanted to survive the rest of their journey. A small lamp encased in a bronze dome hummed to life as they entered. Serana glided across the room and settled herself on what appeared to be a stone table. She noticed Eira watching and propped herself up on her elbow, raising an eyebrow and raising one of the bronze mugs in salute.

Eira smirked and shook her head. When trapped in an impossible situation, perhaps it was best to be with an impossible person. For her own part, Eira was perfectly happy in one of the corners. It was not like the benches or stone slabs would be any more accommodating; the Dwemer were not big on comfort. She settled against the wall, pulling her cloak about her and tried to catch a few hours of sleep before they set off again.

Serana was still watching her. With a roll of her eyes, Eira returned the salute with her own canteen and took a drink. That seemed to pacify her because the vampire grinned wider and set the cup back down on the table. They had come a long way since the first time they had been trapped in the dark together. Eira fixed her canteen back where it belonged, closed her eyes, and steeled herself for the dream. What would Natalie think, Eira wondered as she drifted off, if she could see her now.


	12. Somewhere Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana and Eira explore the Dwemer underworld in search of an Elder Scroll

Serana was many things, and bored made the list far more frequently than she would have liked. She lounged against the side of the metal cage as it carried her toward what she assumed was the center of the earth. They had been falling for so long she had started to wonder if they would just pop out the other side of the world. That seemed like something the Dwemer would do.

Eira looked like she was napping on the far side of the cage. The little elevator was so small that Serana could have easily kicked her from where she was standing. It probably wouldn’t have helped anything but the temptation was overpowering. Her stomach still turned when she thought about their last few nights together. Eira had been so comforting, so kind after learning what Serana had been through, and hauling her to safety was nothing short of heroic. It was something Serana had very little experience with and it left her a little unsure of how to react.

Worse than that was Serana’s own behavior. She had been so weak and vulnerable that she was nearly sick at the memory. Ever since they had met, Eira had been protecting her, even saving her. It was endearing, to be sure, and she held Eira in the highest regard because of it, but she loathed what she was learning from the experience. She did not like being dependent on anyone. The image of the vampire sorceress destroying the world with fire and lightning had always held a certain appeal. Unfortunately for her, sharing that image with a kind woman who healed her scrapes and bruises somewhat detracted from the ensemble.

Worst of all was the way Eira seemed to care about her. She was plainly still in love with her wife, and Serana sympathized, but Eira should have tried to get something out of her by now. All her life, everyone Serana had met had always been out for themselves. Eira was here at least partially for her own reasons, but she still did not fit the pattern. She was not here to save her own life from Harkon’s legions and she was certainly not creeping through a Dwemer ruin looking for revenge. It made Serana want to kick her, ask her why she was really here, and have Eira reply with the same, tired answers she had heard all her life. Eira would admit she was here for power. She was here serving her father because she wanted to live forever.

Serana had to smile a little at that. She must have been losing her edge because the thought of Eira saying something like that was so impossible she nearly laughed aloud. Perhaps it was because Eira was not a total enigma to her. Serana understood obsession very well and Eira was obsessed with revenge. It made things a bit more comfortable, knowing what was going on inside her head, but it was still irritating that Eira did not fit the mold Serana had known her whole life. Power struggles actually provided a sense of familiarity to her. They were easy to predict, easier to handle, and she could reduce the players to subhuman pawns in a pointless game. It actually gave her a sense of place, looking down on all the players of such a silly game.

The cage ground to a halt, forcing Serana’s thoughts to do the same. Eira was on her feet in a flash. Her bow was ready before the door swung open and Serana found herself lazily readying a few spells just in case something showed up. Nothing ever did but it could not hurt to be ready. The lift had not exactly been quiet, after all. Serana placed herself beside Eira and watched as the doors swung open.

No one was there. The doors creaked open to reveal the same, empty passages they had crept through for the last few days. They had all started to look the same: piles of rubble strewn here and there, bits of bronze gleaming in the gray dust, a few globes of light dotting the walls or ceiling, and enough dust to choke a grown woman if she breathed too deeply. The only thing keeping Serana on her toes was the constant sight of tracks in the dust. They were sharing this space with lots of unseen monsters, and Eira’s tension had gradually bled into Serana’s attitude.

Eira crept out of the lift, silent as a shadow. It was impressive, actually, how quietly she could move. Serana had tried to imitate her strange style of movement, in part for want of something better to do with her time, but quickly gave it up. She could move more softly on her own even without magically muffling her steps. That was always good fun. She wondered if Eira had figured out how she was always able to sneak up on her. Serana hoped she had not.

Eira picked her way around a pile of rubble, eyes on the floor. Serana followed soon after but found herself unable to focus. Being trapped underground did not sit well with her, not after what she had been through. She missed being outdoors. She missed the fresh air, the open spaces, the sense of time, even the sun’s unforgiving heat. It was enough to drive a girl mad, having to say goodbye to all that. Most of all she missed the night sky. Having the stars splayed out overhead with the moons and lights all coming together to form one perfect canvas.

She could see stars. Serana hopped forward, bounding over a bit of rock and scampering up beside EIra. Those could not possibly be stars, could they? The door at the far end of the hall was cracked just enough for her to catch a glimpse of silver-blue light shining in the distance. Had they really come out on the other side of the world? Was that even possible?

Her curiosity got the better of her. Serana leapt passed the startled Eira, bounding silently over to the door and slipping through the slender opening to the other side.

They were not stars, but the ceiling of the cavern looked so like the night sky it left Serana feeling breathless. She stopped just outside the door and took it all in. The word cavern did not begin to describe the vast, underground world they had stumbled into. She could see no walls in the distance or even the ceiling above except for the twinkling lights and those seemed to go on for miles in every direction. The landscape was lit by glowing plants that looked like enormous jellyfish. Some of them seemed to be suspended in midair, giving Serana the impression that sooner or later one of them would start moving.

More light flooded the room from the city-sized mushrooms sprouting in the distance. Many of them glowed with faintly colored light that added to the surreal environment. Even some of the rocks were shining. Serana could hear running water off to her right and turned to find colorful patterns dancing on a rocky overhang.

It was beautiful.

“It is, isn’t it?” Eira’s voice came from behind her, making her jump. She had not realized she had spoken aloud.

“I never knew places like this existed.” Serana could still hardly believe what she was seeing. How had she lived her entire life without seeing this or even knowing it was possible?

“It’s just the one, I think. And we should keep moving. It isn’t exactly safe down here.”

Serana tore herself away from the awe-inspiring sights and glared at Eira. She was right, of course, but this place was incredible. It deserved to be appreciated, to be savored by anyone fortunate enough to experience it. How could Eira not be taken in by its grandeur? There were probably only a handful of people who had ever seen it before. This was a moment worth savoring.

Eira wilted under Serana’s disapproval. “Fine, take it in. If there’s any justice in the world, this will be the last time we’re down here.”

Serana went back to her sightseeing and tried to memorize every tiny detail. This would likely be her only chance to see it and she was determined not to forget a single thing.

“Makes me wonder why your father is so intent on the surface,” Eira said, bow readied as she watched their surroundings. She even looked at the rocks like they were vicious predators lying in wait. Then again, for all Serana knew, that was exactly what they were. Maybe Eira was on to something.

Serana sagged unhappily. She would rather think about rocks than her family right now. “Even if he knew about this place, he would still want the surface. For him it’s a matter of pride. It’s about vampires taking their rightful place in the world.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want it, can we have it?” Eira chuckled.

“Something tells me that if you fled here, he would want all of this, too.”

She loathed talking about her father like this. For so long she had tried to think of him as Harkon, using his name as a shield against the knowledge that he was her father. As jaded as she was, after all the things she had seen and done, she still loved him. He would always be her father. Whatever he was now, whatever Harkon was now, she would never be rid of the memories from before the prophecy took him. She would always remember him as he was, and she was not sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“You said he was different before,” Eira said quietly. “When you talked about him last. You told me the prophecy changed him.”

Serana nodded leadenly. “That’s one way to put it.”

“If you want, I think I’d like to hear about him. From before the prophecy, I mean. If that’s alright.” Eira was so careful in saying it that Serana nearly laughed aloud. Damn her. Why did she care?

“Yeah,” Serana managed. “I’d like that.”

Serana took one last look at the beautiful scene before her. She made one last effort to memorize the exact way the water flowed over those luminous stones, the way the light made patterns on the ceiling. It distracted her from thinking about her infuriatingly compassionate companion. At length she turned to Eira and shoved her feelings back where they belonged. She could complain about Eira’s humanity when they were out of harm’s way. Gods above, the woman would surely give her some other reason to resent her before they got there.

“Okay.” Serana smiled against her will. “Let’s go.”

Serana took the lead as they made their way through the strange foliage. From what little she had gathered at the College, the Dwemer had a healthy respect for the Elder Scrolls, so the tower housing it would be suitably ostentatious. Serana could be grateful for that while still bemoaning the lack of detail. Sure, they would know it on sight, but first they would have to actually see the damned thing. They were looking less for a needle in a haystack and more for a single, conspicuous rock atop one of Skyrim’s mountains.

More infuriating was the description of the tower itself. Supposedly it rose from the center of a vast, underground lake, its bronze neck reaching to the high ceiling like some kind of ancient sea monster. It made Serana want to knock Eira over the head, drag her into the bushes, and spend a few days exploring the vast underground world before she got dragged away to more important things. She wanted to see the whole world, after all, and this was certainly no exception.

Serana huffed as they walked. She knew perfectly well they had a job to do. She knew perfectly well they were sharing this world with untold legions of murderous monsters. The plain fact was that they needed to leave as soon as possible.

None of that would stop her from blaming Eira, though.

Serana tried to take in the scenery as they went under the guise of watching for movement in the dark. They had found their way to a stone road that was barely visible under ages of dirt. Here and there a set of tracks could be seen, some looking almost human, some decidedly not. She even spotted giant tracks near the roadside, curving off into the distance and far from where they were heading. It was a shame. She would have liked to speak to it, given the chance. Surely it knew its way around down here, and something so long-lived would have seen things few others could even imagine.

The world down here had seen almost as much abuse as the world above. Crumbling towers and collapsing ruins dotted the plains in much the same way and in the gloom it was difficult to tell their Dwemer outlines from their Nordic cousins on the surface. As they moved along the path, Serana began to notice the outlines moving in the distance. Soon she began to see shadowed figures, straight from a child’s nightmare, crawling over the ruins like spiders. Eira had been right. This place was dangerous and this was no time for enjoying the sights.

They were about to pass under a low arch when Eira grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her to a stop. She moved up beside her, one finger over her lips as she motioned for Serana to stay put. Angry at having missed whatever Eira had seen, Serana bared her teeth but agreed to stay still. Eira sidled up to the side of the archway, set her bow down, and drew her dagger, all in complete silence. Then she stopped moving altogether, crouching by the floor. Waiting.

Serana waited with her. Her eyes darted to every hiding place in sight but found nothing. Every so slowly, she became aware of a soft, scrabbling sound coming from the other side of the arch. Something was clawing its way over the side. Serana watched in fascination as a pair of grey hands grasped the stone lip. Soon they were joined by gangly arms and then by a grotesque, alien head. The grey turned to greenish-black as it came further into the light. The way it blended in with the darkness made even Serana’s sharp eyes want to slide right over it.

As it reached the ground, Serana could see it in detail for the first time. It was indeed blind, and where its eyes should have been there were only flaps of red skin. It slithered to the ground mere inches from where Eira was crouched, clinging to tiny holds in the rock that Serana could not see as it placed its hands on the ground. There it crouched, testing the windless air like an animal. It was looking right at Serana, leaning forward as though it were trying to see. She could hear it making small sounds, like clicks, and wondered how something so perverse had ever been let loose in the world.

Eira did not care. In one snakelike movement, she struck, her dagger crunching against the base of its skull as she severed the creature’s spine. Serana felt herself shiver as the monster dropped to the floor. In that moment, it became perfectly clear that Eira had never left the Dark Brotherhood, just as she had said.

As the Falmer crumpled to the floor, Eira picked up her bow, slung it about her shoulders, and motioned for Serana to move on again. Her dagger still gleamed red in the dim light, its image erasing all sense of wonder in Serana’s mind. Now was not the time to be getting lost. They had to find the Scroll and get out of here before something discovered them. As impressive as Eira was, Serana could not count on her to kill every Falmer down here.

More and more of the monsters began popping up from nowhere. Some appeared on the path beside them, crawling out of cracks in the rocks and fingering vicious blades of jagged steel. Eira always seemed to know where they were coming from and was always ready when they appeared, her dagger in hand and ready to strike. She even managed to creep up on some of them, stepping so close it seemed impossible they did not hear her. Or smell her, for that matter.

They moved along like this for almost an hour, Serana leading until Eira decided something in the bushes needed to be murdered. They wandered through a small forest of the mushroom-trees, Serana watching with amusement as Eira poked at some of the glowing tendrils. There was wonder here for everyone, even an assassin. She made a note to rub Eira’s nose in that once they were out of here. Once they were out, they trudged through a river and hiked toward where it plunged from a steep cliff.

Serana chanced a look over the cliff’s edge and abruptly stopped to whack Eira on the shoulder. Sitting in the middle of the dark water, illuminated by a dozen bright Dwemer globes, was their tower. The sides were plated in gleaming bronze and the top disappeared into the distant ceiling, almost like it was melting away among the stars. Now this was the proper way to house an Elder Scroll. Eira looked where Serana pointed and, despite the danger, managed to roll her eyes toward the heavens and pointedly mouth ‘thank the Gods.’ Serana had the strongest urge to rap her across the forehead. She was just lucky they were seconds away from being torn apart and eaten.

Instead she searched for a way across the moat that would keep them reasonably dry. That water was black as a moonless night and she had no desire to see what kind of blind, man-eating fish-beasts lurked in the depths. It took her only a moment to find the bridge. They were not far, but they would need to climb down a set of rocky shelves in order to get there. Serana tugged at Eira’s sleeve again. She would surely be grateful to be out of this place.

It was not meant to be. Just as she got Eira’s attention, something scuttled its way out of a hole in the rocks behind them. It looked like a jet-black cockroach that had grown to the size of a horse and six huge eyes that glowed turquoise under its armored plates. The abomination reared up on its hind legs, clicked its enormous mandibles, and looked right at them.

“I told you so,” Eira said angrily, snapping off an arrow with superhuman speed. It caught the beast in one of its eyes and sent it reeling. “Always knew I’d die saying that.”

The roach hit the ground running, hurling itself at Eira with a screech that made Serana’s skin want to slough right off. She could feel it in her teeth as they ground together. In the darkness the creature soon became nothing more than a black blur. Serana bolted toward the ledge to get out of its path before heaving a ball of molten fire right at it. Flames burst over its blackened shell and sent it tumbling into the glowing brush. The agonized shrieks made Serana shiver but that did not stop her from feeling well-satisfied with the shot.

That satisfaction was cut short as it rolled to its feet and hissed in fury. Its gaze was now fixed on Serana and it was not pleased. Serana took a few steps back. “Eira, I think I’m done looking around now!”

As Serana backed away the demon reared on its hind legs and spat, unleashing a gout of poisonous venom that bubbled and popped as it flew. Serana sidestepped just enough to avoid being hit and countered with a spear of pure ice. It went wide, skipping off one of the armored leg plates as Serana tried to recover from her sudden shift in balance.

Eira was doing her own shooting from farther away, her arrows making sparks as they struck. One found its way into a tiny gap in the neck but it did little more than make the monster flinch. Still it charged, careening toward Serana at breakneck speed. Serana gritted her teeth and set her feet beneath her, bringing one hand up in an angry uppercut. Lightning flew from her open palm and the cavern was lit momentarily with blinding purple light. She swore in the most vicious tongue she could muster as the strike landed squarely between its mandibles and failed even to stun the beast.

It was still a dozen paces away when it flung itself at her, sailing through the air with jaws wide. This time Serana had to hurl herself aside, landing in an undignified heap in order to avoid being chomped in half. The creature landed with a scuttling crash and Serana wasted no time popping to her feet and readying another spell. Before she could turn, the beast wailed in agony as Eira beat her to the punch. Serana turned in time to see the creature had already turned to face her but now lay scrabbling in the dirt, one of its legs dead with an arrow in the joint.

“This way! We can use the ledges!” Eira sent another shaft buzzing far wide of the fight and skewered a Falmer rushing to join the fray. Behind it came dozens, then hundreds more, clawing their way out of cracks in the earth and clawing over their dead as Eira picked them off. Serana saw the roach begin to rise and put one last hit on the monster, slamming it into the ground with an enormous spear of steaming ice. She pushed herself up and bolted as new screams of agony filled the air.

Eira was running along the cliff in long, languid strides that broke only when she readied another arrow. Her destination was plain enough as Serana approached the edge of the cliff. A set of sharp but fairly short drops in the cliff made a kind of staircase down to the lake. From there, it would be easy enough to swim their way across to the Dwemer tower. It might actually be faster than fighting their way to the bridge. Serana could plainly see a door near the water and it looked ornate enough to be the only way in. If they fought to the bridge, they would then be forced to hold the Falmer off as they raced down the stairs to the door. This way, they might just lose them in the water.

Serana passed behind Eira mere inches from the cliff before coming to a skidding halt. They were not going to make it. Falmer already scrambled over the rocks between them and their destination. It would have been a tough fight even without the hundreds pouring in from every other direction. There was no going back now, no muffling of sound or bending of light that could hide both her and Eira long enough to fool this many angry monsters. Even if the Falmer did not get them, more of those roaches had joined the stampede, their eyes glowing hungrily in the gloom.

“Well,” Eira said. “At least we get to die somewhere nice.”

Serana turned and looked sadly at her hapless friend. She was right. There was no way they could fight their way out of this. There were just too many of the bastards and the two of them, however skilled, just could not put them down fast enough to stay alive. Serana swept her arm out before her, hurling hundreds of shards of ice before her. Dozens of Falmer dropped to the floor, some wounded in their arms or legs, some lying motionless on the floor. She clenched her fists. It was still not enough.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Serana answered, determined to make light of what was surely her last act. “Don’t you trust me at all?”

There was only one way out, after all, and it would probably kill them both just as surely as staying here to fight. Eira actually laughed. “What are you to do, fly us out of here?”

“Exactly.”

Serana took a deep breath, turned to face Eira, and charged. Eira had just enough time to look surprised as Serana wrapped her in a flying tackle that carried them both over the cliff and into the open air.

Neither of them screamed as they fell. Serana was too busy concentrating on ensuring they both survived the fall, manipulating the air around Eira’s head to protect her thick skull before trying to save her own life. The sensation of freefalling could not have lasted more than a few seconds but it still went on far too long to be comfortable. Serana felt herself start to tumble as Eira spun out of her grasp. Somehow she looked like she knew what she was doing, putting her arms out to her sides and trying to slow her fall. Serana had enough time to properly curse at her before slamming into the water.

The hit knocked all sense from Serana. She felt herself sinking, her eyes open but unseeing as more glowing plants turned lazily beneath the placid current. They came up to meet her, plants brushing her leg as she sank deeper, tiny fish watching her from sheltered rocks. A dull pain in her lungs soon turned to burning. Her vision began to clear and she started to thrash. Air. She needed air. She tried frantically to remember which way was up, clawing at the water around her until her head finally broke the surface.

She coughed and spluttered and gulped down as much sweet, stale air as her lungs could hold. Eira was nowhere to be seen. Serana spun about, pushing the hair from her eyes and searching everywhere for the woman. Had she gone under? She tried shouting.

“EIRA!” There was no answer except for her own voice echoing off the cliff. As it faded, she again heard the howling of the Falmer, now distant if no less unnerving. The echoes actually made their cries worse.

She shielded her face as a Falmer’s death cry abruptly cut off in a splash of water. Another massive splash behind her set her swimming towards the tower. She had no desire to see if these things could swim and the light from the tower’s globes would let her search for Eira. She hoped.

More splashes and more screams came as she paddled up to the tower’s side. With her luck, Eira had gotten to the surface just in time to get hit over the head by one of those screaming Falmer. At last her hand found solid stone and she began pulling herself along the tower base. The lights led her off to one side as they spiraled toward the water. That would be the staircase. There must be somewhere she could pull herself up. All she had to do was keep going.

Hand over hand she dragged herself through the water until she found what she was after. A stone dock extended from the base of the tower, its crumbling foundation making it look like it had once been a bridge toward some distant edge of the lake. Serana wrapped both her arms over the stone lip and hauled herself free of the water.

Something grabbed her ankle. Before she knew it Serana was back in the water as whatever it was gave her a strong tug. She tasted blood and her jaw throbbed from where it had struck the stone. Her mind was still swimming as another hand grabbed at her other leg, pulling her deeper underwater. Then the first let go, releasing her ankle as the creature grabbed her arms. Serana struggled and fought but she was too late. Legs wrapped around her waist and fingers with inhuman strength dug into both her arms.

Together they sank to the bottom, Serana grasping furiously for her dagger as the creature pinned her arms to her side. She kept thrashing, kicking and squirming with everything she had. It was no use. It had a death grip on her and was determined to take them both to the bottom. Still she fought, every movement bringing her fingers just a little closer to the hilt and every ounce of her screaming for air. She tugged and felt her fingers brush the hilt. Just one more. Just one more and she was free.

She pulled, her hand finding the dagger and ripping it free. Serana stabbed the blade into the creature’s side with all the wrath she could muster. It jerked, its fingers suddenly loose and weak. It tried to grab at her again but Serana was already gone. Her feet kicked and her arms burned as she swam for all she was worth. Again she surfaced, and again she found the stone landing. She coughed and gasped for air as she pulled herself up once more.

Another pair of hands found her arms and pulled her upward. Serana felt someone under her as she tumbled onto the stone. She reacted without thinking, bringing her fist down to slam her dagger into whoever had grabbed her. But her blade was gone, and her fist only thumped hollowly against the chest of whoever had saved her.

“Serana, it’s me,” Eira’s voice echoed in her ears. “You’re alright. Come on, we have to go. You have to get up.”

Serana coughed up more water and tried to stand. Eira hauled her up, pulling Serana’s arm over her shoulder and all but carrying her up the first few stairs. Serana tried to tell her that they needed to go back but only succeeded in coughing up more water.

Just as her coughing fits ended, so did the stairs. Eira pushed Serana through the doors and tried to slam them shut. The sound of bare feet on stone could be heard all around them. The Falmer would be climbing down from the cliff. They would be here in moments. Eira threw herself against the door, its hinges squealing as it finally closed.

“We need something to seal this up,” Eira shouted. “Find something to barricade it. Anything.”

There was nothing, of course, just more stone furniture or bronze urns. Serana did not care. Something snapped in her. Maybe it was nearly drowning because of those things or maybe it was being outmatched by a bunch of blind monsters. Maybe losing her dagger had just sent her over the edge. Whatever the reason ,the result was the same.

“Move,” Serana hissed, her voice frosting the air before her. Eira must have sensed the hate in her tone because she moved away from the door like it was covered in spiders. Serana clenched her fists and wove the biggest, nastiest frost rune she could across the door, her breath still fogging the air in front of her. The room lit up with blue light as it appeared over the door, its glyphs shimmering with barely-contained power.

Eira wasted no time. She spun on her heel and sprinted away from the door as fast as she could, grabbing Serana by the arm and nearly tugging her off her feet as she passed. Serana came to her senses and ran with her, realizing in horror that she may have just killed them both. Another of those bronze cages waited for them at the far end of the tower. Eira got there first, throwing the lever to take them upward just as Serana leapt aboard. The door slammed shut and the gears creaked and, for a long moment, nothing moved.

They rose too slowly, neither of them daring to make a sound, much less take their eyes from the door. The sound of shouting grew so loud Serana was sure they were already inside the room. They were moving too slowly. But the Falmer did not come through the door. She could hear them outside, gabbling and shouting. The ceiling soon covered the top of the lift, then the middle. Just as they were passing out of sight, Serana saw the door burst open.

An almighty crack split the air, as loud as the earth being broken in two. Then there was nothing. The lift rose in squeaking silence, its passengers too stunned to speak. Serana let out a long breath and found herself grinning. She had just frozen the entire base of the tower in a solid sheet of ice. Nothing would be following them up for a very long time.

She turned to see Eira still gripping her bow. How she had managed to save both that and Serana was a mystery but Serana was glad she had not been forced to choose. For how much Eira doted on that bow, Serana might not have made it out of that lake alive. Eira’s quiver was empty, as was the scabbard at her hip. Perhaps the greater mystery was not how she had saved her bow but how she had lost her sword. She was making a bad habit of that, it seemed. Her brown hair was soaked like the rest of her and now clung to her face and neck. It would have been a more amusing sight if the woman had not been glaring death at Serana.

“What in Oblivion was that?” Eira asked as she caught her breath.

“Which part?” Serana asked, genuinely curious. “Throwing you off a cliff or nearly freezing us both solid?”

“Both!” Eira laughed and pushed the hair from her eyes with one hand. “If you’re looking for a way to kill us just tell me. I know some good mountains we can jump off together.”

Serana couldn’t resist a smile. “See? I knew you liked it.”

“Only a little,” Eira grumbled.

Serana looked down at her soaked clothing. It had been exhilarating, fighting for her life like that. Rarely in her long life had she come upon something that could best her. The draugr that had wounded her in Dimhollow had only done so because she had been trying to save Eira and the Dawnguard would have posed a challenge, surely, but she was confident she could have handled them after a difficult fight. But those Falmer were something else. And there were so damned many of them. Throwing herself from that cliff, however insane it was, left her feeling incredibly alive.

“I really hope this doesn’t go to the surface,” Eira said as she eyed the roof of the cage. “We’re going to freeze solid if it does.”

“It should lead to the chamber with the Scroll,” Serana said as she began wringing out her shirt. “That’s the hope, anyway.”

She started pulling the water from her clothes by magic but found it more difficult than she had imagined. She might have been grateful over surviving the fall but that did not mean she had to appreciate being soaked to the bone. As she passed her hand over her shirt to keep drawing the water out, her hand brushed the empty sheath at her belt. The gold patterns that lined the edge felt empty and suddenly meaningless beneath her thumb and her heart sank at the thought of never seeing the dagger again.

“If I give it back, do I get to hear the story?”

Serana’s head snapped up to find Eira holding out her dagger hilt first and grinning like a fool. She snatched it out of her grasp so quickly that Eira examined her hand for cuts afterward. It was silly how much it meant to her. It should have been just another bit of metal.

“There’s not much of a story,” Serana admitted, turning the blade over delicately. The familiar feeling as the grip settled on her palm comforted her in ways she did not often admit. “My father gave it to me, actually, just before I was turned. He said I should have something to protect myself with when I was left with nothing else.”

As stupid as it was, she still smiled at the memory. She examined the gleaming edge fondly in the light. “It was ridiculous, of course. I didn’t need a piece of metal to protect myself when I could just turn anything that came after me to ash. I thought he was just being stupid. Overprotective.”

A few drops of water still clung to the metal after being submerged. Some of that water had turned red as a reminder of her struggle beneath the lake. A small part of her insisted her father had saved her life then, that he had known what she would go through and had planned all this out since the beginning. She took a moment to force that part of her away. It was a side of herself she never acknowledged because it had never really grown up with the rest of her. It should have learned to be silent a long time ago.

She caught her own reflection in the flat of the blade. She had never taken much care of it but it had never lost its edge or its shine. She had even tried to snap it once, a long time ago, and she was glad that she had failed.

“I didn’t practice with it until after I was turned. It made me feel better, having something to protect me when my magic failed. Just like my father said.” She laughed hollowly. “Not that it would have helped much. But it did give me a sense of comfort. And after my father found that prophecy, well…”

She turned the blade over, examining its every detail as though she had not already committed them all to memory. It was not lavish or ornate but neither was it simple steel. It had been shaped to look like an extending wing, its leading edge gleaming gold while the rest shone in brilliant silver.

“It reminds me of who he was. Before he became just Harkon.”

“He sounds like he was a good father once,” Eira said in almost reverent tones.

“I think he tried to be.” Serana ran her finger along the golden edge, her finger wiping away a few drops of water. “But that was a long time ago. I can hardly even remember it. Eventually I started to wonder if I was a daughter to him or just his protégé, but that was only after I had been turned. Perhaps I only imagined it. Maybe it was my fault he became Harkon after his daughter turned her back on him.”

Serana looked up to find Eira watching her with a look of purest sympathy. She wondered if Eira had any idea what it was like to lose a parent but still see their face every day. She was not sure she wanted to know. Every time one of them asked a question, the other answered with a depressing story that left them both in silence.

Serana shook her head. “Whatever Harkon is, he isn’t my father.” She was repeating it for the millionth time but even now it could not erase the last of her lingering doubts. Maybe the next time would be the last.

The cage ground to a halt and the door swung open. Eira peered through, slinging her bow over her shoulder when she saw nothing in the passage beyond. Serana took a moment to check the room and saw nothing in the open, either. Eira turned her eyes back to Serana and smiled.

“I’m glad I got it back for you,” she said softly. Then those damn lips of hers started to turn. “You know, between trying not to drown and dragging you up all those flights of stairs.”

Serana did her best to keep her own smile from broadening. One of these days, she was going to have to beat some sense into this woman.

“And I really am glad you found it for me.” She flourished her dagger as she spoke, calling up a fireball with her other hand. “You look a bit cold, you know. Let me dry you off. It’s the least I can do.”

Eira scampered out of the cage, hands waving. “No, I’m just fine, thanks.”

Serana allowed herself a grin as she followed her into the next chamber. For a moment she thought they had reached the top of the tower, though they could not have possibly gone all the way to the surface in that short a time. The chamber looked like a wide atrium with a domed ceiling covered with a flawless relief of the night sky. It made Serana wonder how badly the Dwemer had wanted to see the stars, living down here in the dark. As she passed into the room, she realized the painting was not a painting at all. The stars were twinkling above as perfectly as they would on a clear night. It was not the true night sky, for it lacked the moons and streaks of color that splashed the canvas outside, but it was still a sight to be seen.

Eira had stopped just inside the room. Serana had the strongest urge to walk up beside her and flick her ear, telling her this place was not safe and they should be moving on. She resisted the temptation, instead walking up beside her to marvel just for a moment.

“How do you suppose they managed that?” she asked.

“Magic, I guess.” Serana was just as impressed as Eira was. The Dwemer did not rely on magic, at least not in the sense Serana was familiar with, and that made their achievements all the more impressive. Their innovations harnessed the more mundane forces of nature, using them against each other and bending them to their will without any effort on their part. She found the whole idea was both foreign and amazing.

The room was dominated by a strange machine at its center with bronze rings that circled an egg-like object made of opaque green glass. As Eira took in the scenery, Serana ducked to pass under the first ring and approached the green egg. Two soft clicks and the egg split in two, the halves sliding apart on rails just as Serana got close enough to touch them. Inside, suspended on a cradle of gold, was the Elder Scroll. She picked it up as carefully as she would a child and lifted it free of the egg. Despite being indestructible, Elder Scrolls always looked so fragile.

The leather holster still waited at her belt. She pulled it free, set the Scroll in the waiting sling, and hoisted it over her shoulder. The settling of its weight was almost comforting as she finished attaching it to her back. Just like old times.

Eira seemed to agree. She let out an almost heartbroken moan. “And here we are again. One Elder Scroll, one vampire, one idiot, and one crumbling, miserable cavern full of angry monsters.”

“Last time we had dry clothes,” Serana said helpfully.

“Well, if we ever want to do this again, we had better find some before we leave. I wasn’t planning on carrying you down the mountain the same way I carried you up.”

Light flared as Serana tossed another fireball up and down in the palm of her hand. “I don’t know why you won’t let me help you.”

Eira laughed and backed further away. “Listen, we’ve got enough problems without you trying to roast me alive. One of those Falmer ripped my pack off while I was in the water. That means no food, no map, no compass. All I’ve got left is my dagger, so unless Harkon decides to send vampires with really short arms, this won’t end well.”

Serana let the fireball drop toward the floor, the flames coming apart and fading away as they fell. The loss of Eira’s map would have hurt whether she wanted to show it or not. That was her pride and joy, not to mention her best chance at finding the man who killed Natalie. She had also forgotten completely about whoever it was that had followed them up the mountain. They could easily be waiting just outside the lift, ready to ambush them as they emerged, and with Eira disarmed, that meant it would be up to Serana to fight them.

“Well, with any luck, they followed us inside and are now neck-deep in angry Falmer,” Serana ventured, unsure of whether to actually hope for it or not. She always did love a tough fight.

“Let’s hope,” Eira said, apparently not sharing Serana’s conflicting desires. “Either way, we need a fire to dry out clothes and I would very much prefer to survive the experience so don’t get any funny ideas. We’ve had enough near-death experiences today, haven’t we?”

Serana rolled her eyes and put on an exaggerated frown. “Fine, I’ll get a fire going.”

Eira gave her a pointed look and began looking around for things to burn. The Dwemer used mainly stone for their furnishings so that meant Serana would probably be forced to sustain a flame for the next hour or so. She found the prospect tedious, to say the least. Well, if she was going to do it, she might as well make it interesting.

“And take off your clothes.”

Eira’s head whipped around so quickly Serana worried she had broken her neck. She gave Eira a sultry look and made a show of taking off her cloak and letting it fall to the floor. “It’ll be easier to dry them like this. Warmer, too.”

This was too much fun.


	13. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana enjoy their escape from Blackreach but Eira's past is not far behind

Eira stood as far from Serana as possible. The cramped cage barely put her out of arm’s reach but she could not help herself. Ever since Serana had started stripping down, she had been wearing an insufferably smug grin and showed no sign of letting up. At least she had put a shirt on before climbing into the lift. Not that the extra layers did much to discourage Eira’s imagination. After sitting across from her, half-naked, for the better part of an hour, it would have been hard for anyone to focus on what kind of trim lined her gloves.

That bothered Eira more than she could say. After losing Natalie, she had assumed her love life was over. She thought she would die alone, loyal unto death to the first and only woman that ever made her heart race. It had a certain heroic ring to it, even if it was a bit dramatic. Of course, so was chasing one man across the length of Tamriel, so perhaps Eira was simply predictable in her extremes.

It had comforted her that Serana was much the same way, or at least Eira had thought she was. After what had she had endured at the hands of Molag Bal, intimacy was probably the last thing on Serana’s mind. Even if she had started warming up to Eira – on some occasions she had been thoughtful, even sweet – Serana was hardly here just for the company. They were out here saving the world, not taking a walk in the woods together. So maybe they had been flirting a little now and then. It was not like it was going to go anywhere. And Serana was probably just indulging her mortal companion in a little harmless banter before she was inevitably killed by a horde of rabid vampires.

There was simply nothing there, and Eira told herself that over and over as the cage rose. What she had thought when Serana took her clothes off did not mean she was ready to move on. A significant part of Eira remained where it had been for so long: curled up on the floor, sobbing at the loss of her wife. Once again split between her two extremes, Eira was suddenly very surprised she had not ended up gibbering in a gutter somewhere.

Or perhaps this was all normal. She had loved Natalie. And Serana was truly an extraordinary woman. Perhaps it was normal that such a woman would draw her attention. She had survived things that made Eira’s trials seem pitiful in comparison and she had always managed to keep going. It would be normal to admire someone for such an indomitable will.

“Like what you see?” Serana purred, interrupting Eira’s thoughts.

Eira felt herself begin to flush. She had been staring. Serana looked entirely too pleased with herself and Eira suddenly found herself scrambling for words. She gave Serana a flat look. “That human blood diet really does wonders for you, doesn’t it?”

“It keeps the pounds off when your food doesn’t want to be eaten,” Serana said lightly, patting her stomach and drawing Eira’s eyes places they should not have been going. “Thank you for noticing.”

“You seemed intent on sharing,” Eira replied bluntly. “Do I owe you something for your time?”

“More than you can afford,” Serana scoffed.

“Oh?” Eira asked innocently, recovering something of her composure. “How much would you say your life is worth?”

“I saved you from the Falmer,” Serana countered petulantly.

“You threw me off a cliff.”

“Not a very high one.” Her expression on anyone else might have been called a pout but Serana was not the pouting type.

“That’s not the point.” Eira settled back against the cage and smiled easily. “Besides, I vaguely recall being just as naked as you. I’d say we’re about even.”

Serana chuckled quietly, her eyes flicking down to Eira’s boots and back up again a moment later. “Close enough, lamb.”

Eira groaned. “Am I stuck with that name now?”

“It isn’t permanent,” Serana said pleasantly. “Just until you stop acting like one.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Sort of harmless. Lost if you don’t have someone there to help you,” Serana said too quickly. Eira glowered and wondered how long she had been sitting on this answer. “Kind of cute when you try to stand up on your own.”

Eira cocked an eyebrow. “Kind of cute, huh?”

“And delicious when turned over a fire.”

At least she was predictable. Eira sighed and feigned disappointment at the whole show while Serana preened and looked around as though expecting applause. Hopefully that was the end of the name. If not, she would need to find something grand and heroic to elevate her above the livestock. Perhaps that was the way it worked with vampires. Or maybe this one was the black sheep of her kind. There would be something fitting about that.

Eira folded her arms and regarded the woman lounging across from her. Their flirting was not going anywhere, she supposed, so she might as well enjoy it. It was only a matter of time before her family caught up to them and decided exactly what kind of seasoning went best with skewered lamb.

The cage ground to a halt and cut short any more jabs at Eira’s dignity. Eira instinctively grabbed for her bow before remembering she had left all her arrows floating in the lake far below. Serana seemed unconcerned, walking toward the cage door with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She was probably right. As long as her father had not sent an army after them, her magic could handle just about anything. Eira put one hand on her dagger if only to reassure herself. Even unarmed, she was far from helpless. They would just need to make it work.

The door squealed open and all thoughts of fighting vanished from Eira’s mind. Serana’s breath escaped in a soft “wow” that steamed the air in front of her. Eira followed as she stepped out of the cage and onto the mountainside. Neither of them paid any attention to the cold even as the wind whistled around them, carrying snow this way and that in white clouds that shimmered in the sunlight and vanished to mist a moment later. Even the fear of Harkon’s minions had been stolen away by the view and Eira hardly remembered to look around as they emerged into the sunlight.

Massive drifts of pristine snow made the world look both untouched and unreal. Not even rabbit tracks broke the shining, rolling hills of perfect white. Beyond them stretched miles of snow-covered wilderness and, shimmering in the distance, the sea. Eira could see glaciers floating placidly offshore, blinking faintly in the sunlight. Suddenly she realized just how high up they were. Was this the same mountain they had climbed in the blizzard? That lift must have taken them nearly to the peak. Winterhold was only a faint smudge and the College was so small her little finger could have blotted it out.

Eira found herself raising one hand to block the sun. Between the fresh snow and the distant waves, the light was almost blinding. She winced as she thought of Serana trying to enjoy the same view. Her eyes were already more sensitive than Eira’s and, after being underground for so long, something like this must have been excruciating.

Serana appeared next to her a moment later, her hood up and her own hand raised. Eira hoped she had done something to her own eyes to make things more bearable. From the look on Serana’s face, if she was in pain, she truly did not care.

“That’s amazing,” she whispered. That got Eira to smile. She was so determined to enjoy the view that she was willing to go blind taking it in. It must have been impossible for her to look at directly.

Eira watched the wind tug at Serana’s cloak. “It really is.”

“This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted to see when I was a girl. This is what I wanted to leave the castle for.”

“You had never left before this?”

“I escaped a few times, but never for long. I always wanted to see more,” Serana said, gesturing with her free hand at the blinding expanse and prompting Eira to chuckle at the irony. “My parents rarely wanted to let me off the island. Sometimes I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go. I had my family and more books than I could ever read. But I always wanted to be here, to see it for myself, not through my parents’ eyes or the pages of a book.”

Eira let her gaze wander the frozen landscape in silence. They had nearly died getting here. If any one of a thousand things had gone just slightly differently, they would never have made it out alive. If Serana had missed that trap, if that Chaurus had gotten the drop on them, or if Serana’s frost trap had gone off just a moment sooner, they would both be dead. Going through the list, it made Eira realize just how beautiful this frozen mountainside really was.

“Enjoy the view, Serana,” Eira said finally. “You earned it.”

Serana laughed. “Damn right I did. Keeping you alive is hard work.”

Eira smirked and decided not to point out how difficult it was keeping her out of trouble. Even if she never gave Eira a moment of peace, Serana had earned a few moments of her own, and Eira was more than happy to oblidge. They had both certainly earned at least a brief reprieve after their last adventure. Taking on an army of Falmer and a hollowed-out mountain full of booby traps was worth some time spent idling in the mountains. The world could stand to forget about Serana for a few days.

If only she could convince Serana to forget about the world. No doubt she would want to charge right off on their next suicide mission. Getting inside Castle Volkihar was going to be next to impossible and finding Serana’s mother once they were inside seemed hopeless. Eira doubted they would last more than an hour before Harkon descended upon them, locking Serana away again and serving Eira up with an apple in her mouth.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

It never ceased to amaze her how soft Serana’s voice could be. Eira looked away from the glittering sea to find Serana looking at her with those big, orange eyes still shielded from the sun. Her hair had come down during their swim and, framed against the perfect backdrop of the snow-covered countryside, she was nothing short of beautiful.

“Me too.” Eira smiled fondly. They were not meant for each other, that much she knew for certain. She still loved Natalie too much to ever really give someone else the attention they deserved, especially if that someone was Serana. No, Eira had been right before: their flirting was not going anywhere.

But that did not stop her from wishing, just a little, that she could change that.

It was at that moment that Eira’s eyes settled on a blemish in the otherwise perfect canvas. Standing on the hill behind Serana, her black clothing a sharp and unpleasant contrast to the world around them, was a familiar figure that made Eira’s blood run cold. Serana spun around, dagger in hand and a fire blazing in one hand.

“Take it easy,” Eira said, her voice impossibly calm as she stayed Serana’s hand. “If she wanted us dead we would be.”

Serana hesitated but did not take her eyes off the lone figure. “You know her?” she asked, plainly shocked.

“Remember what I said?” Eira moved passed Serana and started up the slope. “You never leave the Dark Brotherhood.”

It should not have been possible for a vampire to turn pale but Serana managed it in that moment. After casting angry looks at both the strange woman and Eira, she began hurrying up the slope. Eira held out her hand.

“Stay there,” she warned, not breaking her stride. “Whatever she wants, just let me handle it.”

“Trying to keep me safe?” Serana snapped. She looked ready to murder the both of them but she did stop following Eira.

“You don’t want to pick a fight with these people, Serana,” Eira said, her voice almost desperate. She paused, turning to fully face Serana before walking away. Her voice was softer this time, too soft even for the Brotherhood to hear. “Please.”

Serana heard her and she did not like it. She shuffled, folded her arms, and did not sheathe her dagger, but she did not move again. Eira tried to give her a grateful look before turning away and marching toward the waiting assassin. The walk must have taken hours. Eira racked her brain as she walked, furiously searching for a reason for it all. Was it Eira she wanted? Was this the moment she would force her back to the Brotherhood?

Eira’s jaw tightened. Or was she here for Serana? This could all be a courtesy; come back to the Sanctuary and we won’t kill your friend. Or were they just trying to get Serana alone for a clean kill? Serana would see that coming. Wouldn’t she? She was probably half-blind, hungry, and unused to dealing with trained assassins. Even if this did turn into a fight, what were the chances they both came out alive?

Eira forced the fear from her face but could not quite push it from her heart. She would handle this, if only because she had told Serana she would, and she would never hear the end of it if she screwed this up.

“Strange company you keep these days, sister,” the woman called as she got closer. She was smiling, something that still chilled Eira to the bone after all these years. It was too sweet a smile for someone that made a living off killing people. Her hair, short and blonde, lent her an air of innocence that belonged anywhere else.

Eira stopped a few good paces away. The distance would not keep her any safer during a fight but it might give Eira the chance to at least pull out her dagger. She tried to take a casual stance, surveying a group of rocks just up the hill with a pointed stare.

“Funny, coming from someone who married a werewolf. How is he, anyway? I think I can see him shivering back there.”

That smile grew wider. “He’s doing well, thank you for asking.”

“He won’t be if this turns into a fight. Maybe you can kill me, but when he goes after my friend back there, you’ll spend the rest of your days picking up the pieces she leaves behind.”

She did not respond to that. Eira stayed perfectly still. She was ready if the woman charged but she dared not set her feet too plainly. She could not afford to add to the tension. Her eyes never left the assassin’s and that murderous smile refused to waiver.

“I think I missed you,” the woman said at last.

Eira ignored that. “What do you want, Astrid?”

“Now now, is that any way to greet a member of the family, sister?”

Eira stifled her mirthless laughter. She would have killed to get out of the family if not for the fact that killing them would have probably just made them happier. And, despite her intensely psychotic outlook on life, Astrid was one of the few people in the Brotherhood Eira felt sympathy for. She should have been someone else, someone heroic, but evil had found her before she could make that choice.

But Eira would not be telling her that, not here. “I’ve done what you’ve asked of me, I’ve kept my mouth shut about the Sanctuary. What more do you want from me?”

Astrid’s smile broadened and Eira had to stop herself from grabbing her blade. This could not turn into a fight.

“I have a gift.”

What?

Astrid produced a bundle of black cloth she had slung across her back. It almost looked like a sword. She held it out to Eira, resting it on her palms so innocently it could not have been anything but a taunt. Eira reluctantly stepped forward and closed the gap between them. She regarded the black bundle the same way she would an oversized viper but Astrid was not budging. Gingerly, Eira lifted it from her hands and was stunned at how impossibly light it was.

“Tell me something, sister,” Astrid began as Eira undid the twine holding the cloth in place. “Do you still believe?”

A shiver ran down Eira’s spine and her fingers fumbled one of the knots. “Of course,” she said. It was an honest answer and one that made her deeply uncomfortable. The rest of the world liked to pretend the Dread Lord, God of Death, did not exist except in the fever dreams of a few mad killers. They had not seen what Eira had seen.

“And yet you left the family,” Astrid finished, just as she had so many times before.

This was not the first time they had argued about it but Eira wished more than anything it would be the last. Almost no one got a clean break from the Brotherhood, but once every few centuries, someone slipped away and managed to start a new life. Most went into politics and found themselves working more closely with the Brotherhood than ever before but there were a few that just disappeared.

Eira kept her eyes averted. “There are a dozen dead men who would tell you I never left at all.”

The answer had never appeased her before and Eira did not truly expect that to change now. A deep and unpleasant chuckle rose from Astrid’s throat as she spoke. “Dearest sister, I’m not saying you don’t do good work, but I want what is best for all of my family, even those who run away. You could do so much more if you returned to the Sanctuary.”

Eira finished undoing the twine. The cloth fell away, forgotten. She ran her hands along the scabbard and let her fingers curl around the grip. For how unnatural it looked, everything about it felt right somehow. The scabbard was black as sin and unadorned save for thin silver etchings along the edges. As Eira looked closer, she could swear the fabric swirled like black smoke. The grip felt more natural to her than any blade she had ever held and was just as beautiful in its simplicity. Her fingers traced the silver crossguard as she stared at the blood-red pommelstone. The ruby should have been gracing the neck of some faraway queen. As she drew it fully, she knew it was not of this world.

Shadows swirled up and down the blade, just as they had its sheathe, making the blade dance and twist before her eyes. The light reflecting from the blade was all wrong, too. It was almost like the sword devoured the light it touched before shining with its own.

Eira slid it back into its scabbard and forced herself to meet Astrid’s eyes once more. “What is this?”

“A gift,” Astrid purred. “As I said.”

“A bribe, you mean?” Eira asked in a low growl. “Do you give me this because you want me to come back?”

“Dearest sister,” Astrid said, coming even closer. “You misunderstand. This is no bribe or act of coercion. This is a parting gift.”

Her eyes went wide before Eira could regain control of her surprise. Astrid had plainly noticed and smiled almost reassuringly as Eira frowned. “You’re letting me go?”

Another of those deep and dusky laughs boiled from Astrid’s throat. “You wound me. You make it sound as though our time together meant nothing. But I know you well. I know who it is you hunt out there. I wish you the best, as I always have. In any case, it is no longer for me to decide.” Her eyes settled on the sword and her voice became tinged with religious fervor as she spoke. “I dreamt of this sword. The Dread Lord is pleased with your work. You have sent many souls to the Void. This is your reward. It was found at the edge of the pond just outside the Sanctuary.”

Eira looked down at the sword. Now, instead of holding a viper by the tail, she had a basilisk. The Dread Lord had given her this. The Dark Brotherhood no longer held her leash; it had been passed to the hands of Death itself.

Her voice very nearly trembled. “And what does he ask in return?”

“The Dread Lord has seen what you will do, sister. He has seen what you will do in his name.” Astrid stepped closer until she was leaning over the sword with Eira. “He knows how many souls you will take if you are allowed to walk free. He knows what lurks in your heart, and so he has given you Vengeance so that you may pursue yours in his name.”

Vengeance. Everything else faded as she heard the name. Her Vengeance. She held it in her hands. After so many years, it was within her grasp.

Astrid’s voice fell to a whisper Eira could hardly hear. “Your time with the Dark Brotherhood is over, should you choose to let it end. But I know you, Eira. I know who you are – who you will always be – and I know who you can become. That is why I ask you, my dear sister, to come home. You could do so much with us by your side. I know this. I ask you to come back not because it was demanded, but because I remember what we shared, both the kills and the words.”

Eira said nothing as Astrid stepped away, a smile on her face. “Farewell, dear sister,” she said, her voice almost sorrowful. “Know that you are always welcome should you decide to come home.”

Astrid’s shadow faded from Eira’s sight but she did not watch her go. She was too busy staring at the scabbard – at Vengeance. What was she supposed to make of that? What had the Dread Lord seen? She had been trying to do something good by leaving the Brotherhood. Had she done that? Had she actually saved anyone? Or was she still nothing more than just a murderer?

Vengeance. The vague prophecies of gods came and went and even the Elder Scrolls, if Serana succeeded in stopping her father, were not infallible. The Dread Lord did not make prophecies. He did not speak in riddles. Eira heard Astrid’s voice repeating the name over and over inside her head. Vengeance. That alone had banished all other thoughts from her mind. Her exhaustion had fled in an instant, along with every other purpose in his life. Every muscle in her body tensed and every nerve was on fire.

She was going to find Natalie’s killer, and she was going to rip his heart out with this sword.

“Are you alright?”

Serana’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. She whirled in surprise, nearly drawing Vengeance she was so caught up in her bloodlust. Serana took a step back. Eira could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she did and the sight of that fear struck her like an arrow in the chest. She forced her hand from the grip and let it fall to her side, her eyes on the snow in sudden shame.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine,” she lied. Eira managed to raise Vengeance after a moment, giving the scabbard a shake and bringing her eyes back up to Serana’s. “Going-away present.”

Serana’s eyebrows threated to fly off her forehead. “What?”

The same thought had been circling Eira’s brain since Astrid had said it and even now she could do little more than nod. “They let me go.”

Serana looked up the mountain toward where Astrid had disappeared. “Why?”

Eira did not want to answer that. Even if she did, Serana could very well call her crazy. Worse, she might believe her. Losing Serana terrified her and Eira would not have blamed her for leaving when she heard the whole story. She might have been a frightening person herself, but even Serana would surely think twice about travelling with the Dread Lord’s personal reaper of souls.

“I don’t know,” she lied.

Serana turned back to Eira but said nothing. She knew Eira was not telling the whole truth. Perhaps she understood what was going on in Eira’s head. More likely she was just as worried about losing Eira; the prospect of finding someone else to battle the end of the world could not have been a pleasant one. Whatever the reason, she let Eira keep her secret, nodding in understanding as though the pained look explained it all.

“Well, whatever the reason, this is a good thing. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, not taking her eyes of Eira. At least that question was easy to answer.

“More than you know,” Eira said, the relief just now beginning to wash over her. The shock of it all had not quite worn off but here and there little pieces were starting to sink in. She was free. Never again would she hear another whisper in the dark telling her to kill.

It was enough to make her feel optimistic. She looked down at Vengeance, gripping the scabbard in both hands. The Dread Lord was not infallible. This could be her chance at a new life. Her choices were her own, in the end, and maybe now she could finally begin atoning for her sins. She could start over.

Or perhaps this was all part of the plan, and Eira nothing more than a pawn. Vengeance was named for a singular, bloody purpose, the only one Eira had known for a very long time. That sanguinary purpose would drive Eira to the ends of the earth if need be and not even a god could stand in her way. How many souls would she claim in her hunt for one man? And afterward? Would she hang up her sword and never kill again? Vengeance suddenly felt leaden in Eira’s grip and she wondered if anything had really changed.

“Eira?”

She tore her eyes from the sword and looked up at Serana to find worry etched plainly on her face. Eira was about to say something to reassure her when she paused, frozen in place. She knew she could never give up on avenging Natalie. That part of her life was set and no one, god or mortal, could alter it. What she did after was up to her. She was free. That was what mattered.

So there she stood, watching the slightest breeze push Serana’s hair across her brow. She would do anything to keep her safe. If that meant drawing Vengeance to defend her, the Dread Lord could have whatever poor soul had picked a fight with her. That was a future she was comfortable with. After all, it was still her choice. She could drop Vengeance in the snow and walk away, never to kill again. Or she could kill for something that mattered. As long as Serana was in danger, she had that something. There was only one person she truly wanted to kill. After that, it was all up to Serana.

She began tying the sword to her belt. “She named the sword.”

Serana replied without missing a beat. “Lambshank?”

Eira had to laugh. “I was trying to have a dramatic moment.”

“You love it.”

She really did. “Well, regardless of the name, seeing her again got in my head.”

Serana waited in silence for Eira to say something less cryptic while Eira waited for her to make another smart remark. Eira finished tying the knot that would keep Vengeance in place. She could trust Serana with what she had heard. Really it was the least she could do after everything they had done for each other.

“She told me I would find the man who killed Natalie.” The truth did not come out easily, it seemed, but it was enough to get the point across.

“That sounds like more good news,” Serana said tentatively.

“It is,” Eira said, pausing as she mulled over her word choice. “It’s just strange. It got me thinking about what will happen after I find him. I’ve been so obsessed with it for so long. I don’t know how to move on from that.”

It was surely the wrong thing to ask. Eira realized too late that Serana knew exactly what she was talking about. She had lost her father to that kind of obsession. Wondering how to move on after it ended was probably not something she enjoyed thinking about.

Serana answered softly. “I don’t know.”

Eira thought she knew the answer but it was not something she wanted to share. Not now. She did not want to admit she had become obsessed with keeping Serana alive. Clinging mindlessly to an impossible goal should not have been the only way to get through losing someone important. Serana deserved better than that. She deserved a better reason to keep going. When this was over, unlike Eira, she would be truly free. Unlike Eira, she had come back from being broken. Once this was over, the whole world could be hers.

“The sword is called Vengeance?” Serana asked. Eira nodded and Serana’s boots crunched in the snow as she came closer. “I promised I would help you find him. After that, I don’t know. I don’t know how to move on. But maybe it’s not something you need to figure out all on your own.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief in the morning light. “Besides, I’m sure there will be a few crumbling, miserable ruins we could explore together. Maybe a lake to swin in?”

Eira could not help but grin. “More time alone in the dark with you? What could be better?”


	14. Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bandit ambush brings Eira closer than ever to finding the man who killed her wife and Serana finds herself in the toughest fight of her life trying to keep Eira safe

Skyrim was a beautiful place when Eira took the time to appreciate it. She had been wandering its landscape for years but she had never really stepped back and taken in the scenery. Looking at it now, that negligence seemed almost criminal.

On the other hand, Skyrim’s scenery had a nasty habit of killing anyone who got caught admiring it, so perhaps she could forgive herself the lapse.

No doubt Serana would be enjoying the scenery for both of them. She would be back there marveling at some distant pine tree or wondering how it was that cloud looked so like a howling wolf while Eira watched the road for trouble. Then again, there was not much to watch out for. They had been walking for hours and had not seen so much as a rabbit. Eira tried to keep herself sharp but it seemed the rest of the world had holed up after the blizzard and every sensible creature was fast asleep.

The snow from that storm had mostly melted away, turning the road into a muddy mess. Eira picked her way along the edge and trusted Serana either to follow her example or, more likely, will the road to dry itself so it would not sully her boots. That sounded like something she would do. It would give her more time to study the exact way this stream flowed between the hills or that ancient stone looked almost sacred, standing alone in a sunlit clearing.

Eira allowed herself a fond smile. She might have felt like an old woman but her own adventuring days were not so far behind her. Serana was allowed to enjoy the sights and ponder the imponderables, just as Eira had done on her first adventures. For being an ancient, all-powerful sorceress that fed on human blood, she had her moments of wide-eyed innocence. Eira shook her head. They were completely alone out here. How many people would kill for a chance to be alone with Serana? Well, maybe not so many once they learned what her favorite food was.

This was the worst part of the journey, really. With nothing to keep her busy, Eira found her mind wandering to the same places it always did. She thought about Serana far too much these days. She should have been thinking about Natalie, about finding the man who killed her, about how Astrid had known exactly where to find her. The Dread Lord had shown enough interest in her to track her down and present her with Vengeance. That should have terrified her.

Instead, Eira’s mind lingered on things she should have left alone. Serana had been through so much, more even than Eira had suffered, and had not only survived but gone on to save the world. She would save the world. Even if Eira was not around to see the end, she knew Serana would win this fight. Not even her father could stop her and that man was little short of terrifying. And, once she was done, whatever she did next would no doubt be just as dangerous and selfless. Eira found herself wanting to stay alive just to see who she picked a fight with next.

That was far from the only reason she wanted to stay with Serana. Those were the thoughts that made Eira wish a saber cat would pop out of the snow and try to swallow her. Even if she was just thinking about how much she admired and respected her and how brave she was for taking this all on alone, it still threatened to make her sick. She was not supposed to be this comfortable around someone else, not supposed to be this close to another woman.

Eira shook her head and tried to focus before the thoughts carried her away. She would help Serana save the world, she would find the man who had taken Natalie from her, and then she would see what happened. Assuming she was even still alive after all that. Maybe that was the secret of it. If she helped Serana save the world just this once, maybe she could go to sleep at night without dreaming of Natalie. If she could keep Serana safe, maybe she could remember Natalie without seeing her face on that last, horrible night, as she lay broken and alone.

Alone.

They were not alone.

Eira stopped in place and readied an arrow. She was not sure what had set her off but she had not stayed alive this long by ignoring her instincts, and right now they told her something was watching them. Serana materialized beside her, silent as a shadow.

“What is it?”

“Something’s out there,” Eira replied vaguely, her eyes fixed on a hill barely a hundred yards ahead. The slopes were dotted with trees, hiding much of the crest from view. It would not have bothered Eira if she had not fixated on a pile of rocks halfway up the slope. They just looked wrong. Like someone had stacked them.

Serana followed her gaze. “What do you want to do?”

Normally she would have suggested they go around and start picking them off one by one, but this time felt different. “You go around the side. I’ll go straight in.”

Eira turned to see Serana giving her a look. “Trying to show off for me?”

“Call it a gut feeling,” Eira said. Astrid’s words still echoed in her mind and hearing that woman talk always put her in a fighting mood. She did not want to sneak around in the shadows any longer. She wanted a fight.

Serana smirked and stalked out to the side before disappearing amid the trees. Eira turned back toward the hill and started walking. Those boulders were for caravans. One good push and down they came, scattering the guards and panicking the horses. She wondered if they would bother pushing them over for one girl with a bow.

She kept walking, reaching the base of the hill without seeing anyone. The hair on the back of her neck stood up in sharp warning but she kept going. Fifty yards. Twenty. Ten.

The pile crumbled. Boulders came tumbling down almost on top of Eira. Black shapes boiled from behind the pile. Eira shot one through the neck and bolted for cover, chased by bouncing stones. She reached the far side of the path and began weaving between the trees just as the first arrows began to whine overhead. One skewered the tree she was using for cover just as one of the larger rocks came crashing through the woods so close she could have touched it as it.

She was on her feet and running before it was out of sight. More arrows sang down the hill but they went far over her head or lost themselves in the trees. She felt like laughing as she drew her own arrow and showed one of the braver bandits how things were done. He went down with a scream. She drew another, moving to the side and finding better cover as the bandits found her range. One broke cover near the edge of the road, charging Eira with a spear. He fell without a sound. His friend screamed in rage, breaking cover and leveling her own bow at Eira. The shot landed near Eira’s boots. Eira’s found its mark.

More scuffling and shouting came from up the hill. Eira pushed her way through the trees until she found herself near the crest. Peeking around a convenient boulder, she saw more bandits taking up positions near their camp. Camp was actually the wrong word. A wooden palisade surrounded a small village with not tents but actual houses – log cabins with thatched roofs. Archers scurried up rope ladders to watchtowers well-camouflaged to blend in with the surrounding trees. Men shouted and formed up into squads outside the walls. Eira counted a few dozen with plenty more flitting about behind the wooden barricades. It was going to be a good fight. At least Serana would be pleased.

One of the groups moving down the hill suddenly burst into flame. The lone survivor, a woman holding a fancy longbow, turned to run before she was nearly split in two by an ice spike the size of a small tree. Eira caught a glimpse of Serana moving out into the open, trading volleys with the archers in the trees and daring them to come after her. Eira rolled her eyes as an arrow that should have pierced her heart suddenly turned to ash with the wave of her hand, bursting over her chest in a cloud of black.

She let the archers chase her back into the woods, content to keep their attention and give Eira more breathing room. That gave Eira the chance to slip around the rock and flank the hilltop. She leveled her bow, took aim at one of the snipers, and loosed. That made one less for Serana to worry about, at least, and it would give her the chance to slip into the camp. She had not expected to find such an organized force out here and she was very eager to learn more about them.

Another of those bandit groups slipped into the trees just as Eira rounded her boulder. Three of them brandished steel while a fourth hung back with a bow. Eira would not have time to take all of them. She hastily snapped off her first shot, taking a massive Orc in the throat and sending him crashing to the ground. The archer snapped back, sending Eira scurrying for cover as her remaining friends charged. Eira hastily readied another arrow and had just enough time to level her bow before they were on top of her. Her arrow took a lanky Nordic man in the leg and put him out of the fight with a mortal wound in his artery.

That left only his companion and the archer. Eira tossed her bow aside and drew Vengeance. Her opponent, a blonde woman with sparkling eyes, would have been pretty if she had not been trying to murder Eira. She held an axe in one hand and a dented shield in the other, both gleaming in the sunlight. It was rare to see a bandit take good care of her gear. Perhaps she was a former soldier or Companion.

Eira’s thoughts were cut short as the axe sang just above her head. The woman should have been thrown off balance by the miss but recovered well enough to block Eira’s counterattack. She moved back cautiously, probing at Eira with her shield and flexing her axe. Eira could make out the archer loping between the trees behind her as she tried to get around Eira’s flank. More scuffling ensued with Vengeance ringing off the shield, driving the woman back. If that archer got around her side, Eira would be dead.

More explosions echoed along the hillside. That would be Serana picking a fight with more bandits. Eira needed to be over there. She poked again, this time jabbing at the woman’s feet and driving her back further. As though reading Eira’s mind, the woman brought her axe in low and tried to chop her at the legs. Eira parried, feinted, and got her sword around the shield in time to make one good strike. The woman yelped and fell as Vengeance claimed its first life. Eira scurried behind a tree and watched for the archer. She did not look at the dying woman, her face contorted in fear. She had looked so murderous, so inhuman during the fight, but everyone looked the same in death. They all looked so young.

Eira picked up her bow and watched as the archer broke cover. His face was a mask of rage. Eira tried to focus only on that as she killed him. She could not afford to wonder what sad turns of their lives had brought them here. What had she said to Serana so long ago? They aren’t people. It was easy to believe when she did not actually have to watch them in their last moments.

She had to find Serana. Eira hurried over the hill listening to the cries of the lookouts. It was not hard to follow the shouting and flashes of light through the trees. Just as Eira crested the hill, she watched a flash of blinding orange engulf another bunch of bandits. Serana looked to be having the time of her life down there. All Eira would do is get in the way.

There was still the fort to contend with. Eira readied another arrow and began pressing back toward the top of the hill. She wanted to be the one to question the leader here. No doubt they would have some very interesting things to tell her.

A rush of air sent Eira diving to the dirt. She peered up for her cover in search of whatever siege engine had just thrown that over her head. Had she missed a catapult? A ballista would not have made such an impression as it passed overhead. She picked herself up and peered down through the trees to find a squad of bandits in full flight. Another group was running toward the fort, screaming at the top of their lungs.

That was when the next rush of air hit Eira, this time from right above her. Her blood turned to ice. She knew what it was before she even craned her head toward the sky and saw it circling overhead.

Dragon.

 

Serana loved a good fight. Nothing in the world made her feel more alive. She was grinning as she sent a fireball to engulf an archer just emerging from shelter behind a boulder. His two friends came at her wildly. The first fell to another fireball before he even got close. She humored the second, allowing him to get close enough to fight for his life. He brought his broadsword down in a two-handed arc that could have split solid rock in two, sending Serana skipping out to the side. She did not give him a second chance. With one fluid motion, she kicked him sharply in the knee, put one hand on his wrist to stay his next swing, and slit his throat before he could strike again.

More shouts came from the fortifications. Eira was probably in over her head, as usual. She started hurrying up the slope, intent on drawing their attention once again and giving Eira a clear shot at the bandits lurking in the treetops. That would allow Serana to storm through the front door, all fire, ice, and lightning as the end of the world came for these poor souls.

A massive shadow passed over the hill, temporarily blotting out the sun. Serana looked up and was struck dumb by the sheer size of the monster. She had never seen a dragon before and the stories had clearly not done them justice. Its wings must have been one hundred feet long and its outstretched body stretched far longer than that. As it passed over her, it let out an earsplitting roar and, for the first time in more than a thousand years, Serana was afraid.

The dragon banked, coming around with all the grace of the wind itself, and dove straight at the remaining bandits. Both Serana and the bandits watched it dive, their small war suddenly forgotten. A few brave souls in the trees fired a few defiant arrows but their shots were wild or bounced harmlessly off bronze scales that sparked where they were struck. Just before it hit the trees, the dragon spread those massive wings and unleashed hell on the earth below. Fire brighter than the sun and a thousand times as hot broke over the camp, burning its way through the surrounding forest and charring the land black wherever it touched.

Serana had shielded her face when the blast struck. She lowered her hands to find only ruins where the camp had stood just a moment before. Where there had been walls, only charred stumps remained. The houses had not been gutted burned like torches and only a few still stood, unaware the world had ended all around them. Charred bodies littered the road and the screams of those unfortunate enough to survive the blast now filled the woods.

Eira was nowhere to be seen. Serana pelted for the hilltop where she had seen her a moment before, hiding among the rocks as the dragon passed overhead. She would have survived something like this. Eira would not be killed by a giant, flying lizard. She had to be alive.

As Serana reached the rocks, the dragon screamed over the hills, this time just above the treetops. It passed over Serana and went for one of wooden towers the bandits had built. She could see little figures at the top trying to jump off but it was too late. The dragon was too fast. With another roar, it burned the tower to cinders along with anyone still atop it. It was the stuff nightmares were made of. All around the burning tower, trees went up like candles and bandits tore at their burning clothes or rolled in the dirt to put the fire out. Some just screamed, running mindlessly through the once serene landscape.

One figure stood out among the rest. While everyone else ran from the beast, someone was running toward the camp. Eira ran straight across the black scar, vaulting over burning logs as she tore across the hill. Serana cursed and shouted and tried everything to get her attention. She was about to start throwing fire when the dragon screamed again. Eira finally turned, her neck craning to see the dragon Serana knew was coming in behind her. Her eyes met Serana’s for a moment before she turned around, staring out across the camp and down the hill. What the hell was she doing?

She did not have time to wonder. Serana turned to find the dragon coming for her in a sharp dive. Now there was no cover for her to hide behind. The rocks were too far away and she had come too far toward the road trying to get Eira’s attention. She stared the dragon down, planting her feet in defiance as it swooped in. She waited for its jaws to part before throwing her hands in front of her.

The heat was unbelievable. Even behind her ward, she swore she could feel her skin peeling away as the flames burst around her. It was over in a moment but the strain of that split second was enough to knock the air from her lungs in a sharp cry of pain. She pushed the fire out to either side and turned to follow the dragon’s path. It was already far away, preparing itself for another wide, banking turn that would bring it back toward the hill. Serana decided it would be best not to press her luck.

She spun on her heel and bolted for the cover of the forest. The rocks where she had searched for Eira would make good cover if it came on another run. She could almost feel the dragon behind her as she leapt over the stones and pressed herself back against one of the larger boulders. She had expected the dragon to come screaming overhead just as it had before but instead there was nothing. The sound of the dragon’s wings beating was unlike anything she had ever heard. It was deeper than the wind had been during the blizzard, more powerful than the waves crashing on the shore at home. She heard it and she found herself frozen behind the rocks. There was nowhere else to run.

Fire slammed against the far side of the rock. Orange tongues of flame curled around the edges and lapped hungrily at her legs. Her ward kept those from burning her but it would not save her for long. Soon the dragon would be right above her and not even she could stand alone against its full fury. She held her ward with one hand and began drawing as much lightning as she could into the other. Maybe she could knock it out of the air.

The dragon screeched. The flames stopped, the boulders smoldering as the stone itself threatened to melt away. Serana popped from her shelter in time to see the dragon reeling, crashing through the treetops and swerving madly just to keep itself in the air. She stared, dumbfounded, as the beast slowly righted itself and took to the sky away from the hill. She had no illusions about it running away or even about it being badly hurt, but she was not about to waste this chance.

Serana sprinted back out into the road, shouting for Eira. They had to get out of here. If she could just find Eira, she could find a way to keep her hidden. Then all she would have to do is find a way to kill a dragon. It was not exactly her best plan, but she had improvised on less. She would make it work. She would not have Eira doing something stupid and lording this over her for the rest of her life.

She caught sight of Eira, her long cloak flying behind her as she hurried through the burning encampment. The flames kept Serana’s shouts from reaching her, of course. Not that it would have mattered anyway. Serana skidded to a halt in the middle of the road and watched as the dragon reappeared over the treetops. It was ignoring Serana completely. Instead, it cruised slowly toward Eira, slowing as it neared the hill and coming for her in the same, fatal way it had come for Serana moments before. Gods, the sound of those wings was unnerving.

As Serana planted her feet, a ball of fire burst from the dragon’s maw and crashed into the trees near Eira. The fire quickly engulfed everything around it, sending Serana into a panic. She could not see Eira. Had she made it out?

Serana snarled, her voice cracking in fury as lightning gathered in her fists. Her hair stood on end and her clothes began to crackle as energy coursed through her. The dragon was moving in, rearing its head back for another blast. Serana would not let it try again. Eira had survived this long and Serana would not let her die here. She brought her hands together, put her palms toward the dragon, and pushed.

The bolt flashed so brilliantly that Serana was left temporarily blind and, as she crumpled to the ground in agony, was rendered deaf as the thunder crashed around her. It sounded like the end of the world. She did not even know if she had hit the beast. Never in her life had she pulled that much power through her. Fighting off a wave of nausea, she put one hand to her head and began to heal her battered senses. She did not have time to be sick. The dragon could be right on top of her or, worse, taking its time in devouring Eira.

Her hearing returned before her sight. Nothing in the world could have been more satisfying in that moment than the crashing and splintering of trees accompanied by the pained screams of the dragon. At least she had found her mark. The lightning that had burned its way into her eyes soon cleared, the white light fading away as the real world returned. An enormous, grey blob thrashed about in trees on the other side of the hill, splintering even the largest trunks with barely a thought. Splinters the size of a grown woman shot through the air like a hail of arrows, forcing Serana to bring up another ward to avoid being skewered. She watched the monster thrash and claw at the ground as it screamed in rage and wondered how damned hard she had to hit the thing before it just stayed down.

Eira had disappeared again and this time the dragon would be very intent on killing Serana. Even grounded it could still make incredible time. Already it was starting to crawl up the hill, felling trees like blades of grass and coming faster than should have been possible. Serana forced herself to turn and run, scampering over the crest just as another ball of flame whooshed through the air behind her. She tore down the hill just long enough to find another clutch of boulders and slid behind them, thanking the now-dead bandits for giving her a chance to survive this.

Footsteps sent smaller rocks clattering over large ones and made Serana’s very bones begin to shake. She could not run from this, not without being caught in the open and grilled up like everyone else. Eira was probably dead, too. She had not seen her since the dragon came down and she surely would have saved Serana by now if she was still alive.

No. No, this was her fight. Nothing could stop her, not even a dragon. Eira was still alive and right now she needed help.

But she needed time. If she was going to hit the dragon with another bolt like that, she needed time to think. The dragon would be forced to move on land, so that was something. She could hear it thundering over the hilltop. It surely had seen her come this way and there were only so many places to hide so close to the path. If it found her here, she would be dead. She needed to distract it.

Suddenly she knew how to buy herself time. With the snap of her fingers, she called on one of the simplest spells she knew, watching anxiously as one of the nearby bandits rose from the ground with unnatural, jerking limbs. It turned toward her, the arrow in its neck sticking out at a grotesque angle. Serana uttered a few words of command and it obediently loped off down the hill, staggering and stumbling as its legs remembered how to run. Watching it go, Serana found herself doubting this could ever work.

It would have to work. The dragon was almost on top of her. She had made her bet. Now it was time to roll the dice. She tossed herself back against the rock, curled herself into a ball, and bent the light around her. Her invisibility spell crackled to life just as the dragon reached the rocks.

The dragon’s head was enormous. Serana could have fit inside its mouth two or three times over even if she had not been curled into a ball. Smoke and fire hissed between its fangs as it stared right at her, ready to burn her alive. The dragon’s claw slammed into one of the boulders, crushing it and pushing what was left down the hill. Another claw seized on the rock just beside Serana and she found herself holding her breath, waiting for it to crumble and for the dragon’s weight to crush her. She held her breath. She forced herself not to move.

In the back of her mind, she noticed something strange about the creature’s neck. Even as it stared right through her, even as death itself was scarcely a moment away, she found herself marveling at the sight of a tiny black shaft peeking out from beneath the dragon’s scales. That was what had saved Serana’s life, what had sent the dragon crashing to the trees before it could kill her. Eira had hit it in the throat.

Something crashed down the hill. Serana gasped, sure that fire and death would soon be all around her. But the dragon had heard it, too. Its head snapped up, eyes narrowing and a deep growl escaping its throat as it caught sight of something fleeing through the woods. Serana dared not look but prayed it was her bandit and not Eira that had drawn its gaze.

With an almighty roar that made Serana’s heart rattle against her ribs, the monster pushed its way over the boulders and charged down the hill. Serana balled herself up even tighter as the dragon’s tail passed over head, swatting aside the boulder she was using as cover and showering her with broken stone. The first burst of flame cut the air and Serana knew she could waste no more time. She dropped her ward, sprang to her feet, and ran.

She reached the hilltop and looked frantically for Eira. She had to be alive. From behind her came the victorious roar that signaled the death of her bandit thrall. It would not be long now. The dragon would be coming back. Already she could hear the thundering steps getting closer. There was not enough time to go looking for Eira. There was not enough time to hide. Even if she did, she could not risk it finding Eira. Not alone. No matter how good she was with that bow, she was no match for a dragon on the ground.

No. Serana turned, planting her feet in challenge and staring down the slope at the giant lizard. This was her fight. She would not let Eira face this alone. Sparks from the burning camp carried on the wind, the little motes of light passing between Serana and the dragon, setting the stage for the first real challenge Serana had ever faced. It had taken an army to stop her before. This was just one creature, one monster, one beast for her to kill.

The dragon struck first. A ball of flame shot up the hill, howling as it flew. Serana let it come, waiting until the last moment to bring up her ward. Her ward creaked and groaned. Serana reveled in the pain. This was a good fight.

She struck back, pulling more lightning from the air and bringing it down on top of the monster’s head. The dragon stumbled, its jaw brushing the dirt as the bolt struck home, but it did not stop. It kept coming.

More fire scorched through the air. This time Serana pushed herself sideways in a cloud of dust. The flames were close enough to singe her hair but it had not struck her. She was still alive, still in the fight. She watched it cock its head and ready another burst of fire.

Serana tried to hit back first, an ice spike the size of a tree whistling toward the dragon’s throat as it released its next burst of flame. It was too hot. The ice melted in the air and Serana was forced to throw up another ward in panic before she was burned alive.

The dragon was almost on top of her. Her ward groaned. The beast’s steps thundered. It was right on top of her. She had nowhere to go. She could not stop it.

She pushed back, shattering her ward and throwing a ball of freezing air at the flames to keep them from immolating her. The heat stopped. Serana, staggering as her ward failed and her spell fizzled out, lost her footing. She stumbled back, turning her ankle and nearly going to the dirt.

The dragon was right on top of her. Gods, the beast was enormous. She saw its eyes, saw the all the destruction it had wrought reflected there in perfect, burning clarity. She saw the victory, too. It had won. Serana was going to die, eaten by a wild animal like some idiot peasant. That was not how stories ended. The dragon did not care. She watched its jaws open, saw it rear its head back like a snake coiling to strike.

It happened in slow motion.

Something ruffled her hair. Serana found herself looking away from the monster that would be her end and toward whatever was hanging over her shoulder. It was an arrow. It passed so close she could have caught it in her hands or even in her teeth. The wind of it played with the free strands of her hair, brushing a few of them aside as it went about its work.

Serana followed it, turning her head back toward the dragon as the arrow crawled toward its open mouth. She swore the dragon had seen it too but it was too late to do anything about it. Together, they watched as, after all the fire and lightning, a splinter this sliver of wood decided their fate. It vanished inside the dragon’s mouth and, as the dragon’s eyes went wide, Serana swore she could hear it strike home.

Suddenly the dragon was rearing up as though it had been struck in the jaw. It did not howl or scream, but made a small, yelping sound, then slammed into the dirt. Its eyes were still fixed on Serana, but there was no life in them. It was dead. The dragon was dead.

She heard someone running up behind her and tore her gaze away from the monster. She found Eira huffing and puffing up the hill, her bow in one hand and ash smeared across her face. At that moment she could have taken that smudged and beautiful face and pinned it to the ground and kissed it until her own was just as filthy.

Instead, she gave her a cool smile and flicked idly at a strand of hair. “What took you so long?”

Eira wheezed out a laugh. “Oh, there’s some gratitude for you. Next time I’ll just let it chew on you, soften you up a bit before I come in and save your life.”

“I had it under control,” Serana lied, looking back at the dragon. She could not remember the last time she had been outmatched in single combat. The reminder that it could still happen, that there were things in this world even she could not kill, left her profoundly shaken.

“Sure you did,” Eira replied. Serana could almost hear her rolling her eyes. She turned to find Eira looking her over, hands still on her knees as she caught her breath. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Serana said quickly. She was still not entirely comfortable with someone being worried about her. Was that how she was supposed to answer? “What about you?”

“I think so.” Eira paused to regard the dragon once again before adding, more quietly, “Somehow.”

Serana did not respond to that. They were both lucky to be alive. They were even luckier to be alive and together. At least one of them should have died in that fight and surely neither of them would have survived alone.

“That,” Serana said at last. “Was one hell of a shot.”

“Just trying to keep up with you,” Eira said lightly. “I thought that lightning bolt would have been the end of it. Why don’t you do that all the time?”

“I save it for special occasions, of course, like when some ingrate won’t thank me for saving her life,” Serana said, putting the last of her energy into a glare. “What the hell were you thinking, charging off like that? There was a dragon coming for you and… Eira?”

Eira’s eyes had turned to ice as she stared at the dead monster, her knuckles white against the grip of her bow. Serana dropped her glare. Her voice was like cold steel dragged over unyielding stone. “I saw him.”

“Who?”

“The man who killed Natalie.”

Serana’s exhaustion evaporated. “Where?”

“The camp. After the dragon passed over, a few of them were still alive. I saw him. In the middle of all the fire and – and everything. I saw him.” She looked back toward the burning camp. “I was looking for you when it happened. I just… lost my head. I forgot about everything – you, the dragon, the bandits. I just went after him. I almost had him when –“

She trailed off, looking up at Serana. She looked embarrassed. Ashamed. “What happened?” Serana asked quietly.

“I heard the dragon. I saw it coming for you.” Eira shook her head and tried to smile. “I made a choice.”

Serana had known the answer already but still did not know what to say. She found herself wondering if she would have done the same thing for Eira. This was everything to her and she had given it up in a heartbeat to save Serana’s life. Serana was not even sure if it was the right decision.

Well, either way, she was not about to throw away what Eira had done for her. She turned from the dragon, clapping Eira on the shoulder and marching toward the camp.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked, turning to face Eira as she walked. “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”


	15. The Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira finds her revenge

They did not need to go far to find their man. No doubt he was sure the dragon had killed everyone on the hilltop and was coming for him next, so leaving a clear trail was the least of his concerns. Serana was all but running to keep up with Eira as she followed the footprints and broken branches that led them through the wilderness. Even Serana could see plainly where they were going and Eira had been doing this far longer than she.

She did not say anything as they ran, but Serana had to wonder how many times Eira had felt this way. When she had told Serana her story, Eira had mentioned being close to him before. It made her wonder how many times she had seen his tracks in the dirt only to watch them vanish on a busy road or over a cliff. There would be no escape for him this time. He may have eluded Eira for years but he had never tried hiding from an angry vampire.

The prints in the mud took a sharp turn before joining up with more tracks going the same way. There must have been more survivors from the battle with the dragon. Serana wondered if they would recognize the two women that had been on that same hill. She hoped they would. She hoped they would see them, realize they had just finished slaying a dragon, and have the grace to cower in fear as Eira cut them down.

The sun was beginning to crawl toward the horizon when Serana caught sight of their destination. Through the trees, Serana could begin to make out another bandit camp standing on a low bluff. Unlike its unfortunate cousin, this one was practically screaming for attention. It boasted two wooden walls, the outer one stippled with watchtowers, a defensive trench filled with sharpened stakes, and a full-sized gate that was very plainly closed to visitors. Even at a distance, the fort looked intimidating. It was obvious why no one had come to clear it out before now and every bandit for miles around must have known this place was safe for their kind.

Well, that ended today. Things were about to become very unsafe very quickly for all those unfortunate bandits. Eira stopped near the edge of the forest and stared over the open field at the towers. Serana pulled up beside her, flexing her gloves in anticipation. She did not even bother asking about a battle plan. From the look on Eira’s face, they were going to march straight in, knock over that pathetic little gate, and kill anything that got in their way.

It was lucky Serana was here to help because Eira would probably have tried this on her own. Judging by how she had handled the dragon, even if the bandits did manage to bring her down, it would be through sheer numbers and they would pay a heavy price to do it. Serana guessed there were between thirty and forty bad guys for them to deal with but her line of sight was limited and she had only seen a dozen so far. Not that either of them cared. Eira would have gone up against ten times that number and Serana would have followed her right in.

She watched Eira loosen Vengeance in its scabbard and fiddle with the few arrows she had remaining. Once she took care of those archers in the towers, she would have only a few more shots before she was forced to use her sword. Serana had only seen Eira fight with steel a few times and those had all been before Vegneance. She was looking forward to seeing how Eira handled it in a real fight.

“You don’t need to come with me,” Eira said, apparently feeling Serana’s gaze on her. “This isn’t your fight.”

Serana moved in front of Eira and crossed her arms angrily. “Not my fight? After everything we’ve been through, you’re telling me this isn’t my fight?”

“There’s –“

“You’re going in there no matter what, so that means I’m going in there no matter what! Do you think Natalie would want you to go in there alone and get yourself killed?”

Eira looked like she had been slapped in the face. “What? No, I –“

“How many times have you risked your life for me? Just today, how many? You pulled me out of Dimhollow, Eira. You saved my life, you walked into a den of vampires just to see me home, you were ready to fight an army of Falmer for me, and you just finished killing a dragon all so that I could see my mother again. Do not tell me this is not my fight.” She put one finger under Eira’s nose and shook it. “Like it or not, Eira, you’re stuck with me.”

Eira closed her mouth and actually managed a smile. “I think I can live with that.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Serana snapped. “Now, do you have any more stupid statements or can we get on with this?”

“Oh, I always have more,” Eira laughed, putting one hand on Vengeance and eyeing the fort in the distance. “But I’ve been waiting for this for eight years. I’m ready to end this.”

“What does the little bastard look like?”

“Like a rat. Thin face, scrawny build, black hair. Imperial. No facial hair, either.”

“Call him out if you see him. I won’t touch him,” Serana promised. After so long, she would not be the one who robbed Eira of her revenge.

Eira nodded to her. “I appreciate that.”

“Something tells me he won’t.”

“No, he will not.” Eira shifted and readied the last of her gear as they spoke. When she finished, she turned to Serana. “Thank you.”

Serana grinned and gave her dagger a twirl. “My pleasure.”

Eira turned back to the fort, took a deep breath, and started walking. Much to Serana’s surprise, she was not going straight for the gate, but for the road running through the woods. Serana jogged up beside her, watching the lookouts as they passed outside the trees. They were in plain view, now, and surely the bandits would spot them. Serana could see a few of them clustered by the gate, lounging but plainly ready to intercept any wayward travelers.

“You’ve got a plan?” Serana asked as they started down the path.

“Not really,” Eira admitted as they walked. “I want them paying attention to us, thinking we’re just more travelers. I don’t want him to have any excuse to run.”

As she spoke, she pulled the hood of her cloak forward and hunched over just enough to make her look the tired, haggard wanderer. She had slung her bow across her back and, from the right angle, it looked more like a hunter’s tool than a dragon slayer’s. Serana followed her lead and tried to look inconspicuous while still watching those bandits on the towers. One was already calling out to his friends below, gesturing lazily toward the two women coming down the road. Easy pickings, no doubt, a gift from the Gods above.

They had no idea what was coming.

Four of them wandered from the gate. They were all big brutes that made a show of hoisting their weapons over their shoulders, laughing and taunting as they approached. “Don’t be scared, girls! You just keep on walking and nobody has to get hurt.”

How wrong they were. Serana suddenly smiled, struck by a wonderful little idea that Eira would no doubt enjoy. “Any of these idiots?” she muttered.

“Nope,” Eira hissed back.

“Good,” she hummed. “Then let’s have a little fun.”

The men closed, still chortling and brandishing their weapons like grand champions of the arena. “Look what we’ve got here,” one rumbled. “Couple of lost souls, eh?”

He walked right up to Serana and probably would have tried to put his hands on her if she had not met his gaze. His friends made a circle around the two of them, two of them getting a little too close to Eira. “We aren’t lost,” Serana said, hoping her voice would keep them from ruining the fun too soon.

They laughed at that. “Not lost?”

“Just out for a stroll, then?”

“That’s a nice bow. Shot any rabbits? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, cough up the gold and any food you’ve got and we might just let you go.”

“Let them go? This one’s pretty. Just look at her.”

That was far enough. “I wouldn’t do that,” Serana said, steel returning to her voice. She may have spent her life in the shadows but she knew how to command a room.

The others stopped. She could hear them shuffling in the dirt behind her, muttering and laughing nervously. The man in front of her was still held in her gaze, unaware that this would be the last thing he ever saw. “What?” he blustered, trying to act tough in front of his friends. “Who do you think you are, telling us what to do? You’re ours, now. We’ve got thirty men back there against the two of you lovely ladies. So I suggest you come quietly before I have to get rough.”

“You asked who we are?” Serana allowed a very nasty grin to come over her face. “My name is Serana, Daughter of Coldharbour, a vampire of pure blood. I have lived on this mortal plane for hundreds of your lifetimes and in those lives I have seen more than you could possibly imagine. I have killed more of your kind than you have ever met, sent more souls to your gods than there are blades of grass on this plain. I have learned from the strongest mages, studied at the feet of masters whose names would shake the earth. I know spells that could turn you inside out with a snap of my fingers. I could steal your mind and make you my puppet with no more than a thought. The world and all its elements bend to my will.”

She watched as the blood drained from bandit’s face. No one moved. All the laughter was gone. All of it but hers.

“And I,” she whispered. “Am not the one you should be scared of right now.”

Eira moved as only an assassin could, cutting down the men standing around her with hardly a rustle of her cloak. The last man was still held firmly in Serana’s gaze, his legs beginning to shake as Serana began walking toward him. “Oh Gods,” he muttered, gibbering as he dropped his axe. “Oh Gods. Talos. Talos, save me.”

Serana let her laughter boil up as he began to stumble. “Run away, boy,” she taunted as he tried to do just that. “Run and hide. Your Gods won’t save you. Not from this.”

The archers in the towers began to shout and draw their bows. Serana moved to stop them but Eira was already ahead of her, stabbing Vengeance into the earth before unlimbering her bow. She still shot faster than the archers on their parapets, her arrows flying true as theirs went so wide Serana did not bother deflecting them. With a snarl, Eira tossed her bow aside as the last archer tumbled from his post. He fell with an arrow in his throat, his body tumbling down inside the walls and landing with a sickening thud.

“Open the gate!” Serana’s bandit was pounding on the doors. The poor man. No one seemed to be listening. “For the love of Talos, open the gate!”

Eira was stalking toward him, Vengeance bared, uncaring that the gate would no sooner budge for her than it would for the bandit. Serana wondered if she planned to hack it down. Vengeance might slice clean through the wood, enchanted as it was. As much as she wanted to find out, Serana wanted a dramatic entrance for her friend. She grinned, laughed at the poor soul still hammering at the planks, and brought one arm forward like she was throwing a rock.

The gate ceased to exist. A ball of flame the size of a mammoth struck the bandit, incinerating him and blowing the gate into millions of burning splinters. Tents went up in flames. Bandits fell to the ground, skewered through legs or arms by shafts as long as Eira’s arrows. Serana threw more fire, catching archers in the open and killing anyone not matching Eira’s description. Chaos descended on the camp. Men screamed and clawed at their wounds as their clothes began to smolder. It looked like hell itself.

Eira walked on, oblivious to it all. The men on the ground were nothing to her. She looked at each face, passing them all in turn and leaving them to whatever fate Serana decided for them. Farther up the hill, a group of bandits began lumping together, locking their shields in a pitiful effort to stand against them. A few jumped from behind burning tents or even out of the disintegrating canvas, charging them from either side. Eira cut them down. They were nothing more than children playing with sticks.

Serana stared down the group now bunching up to meet them. None of them matched Eira’s description. She looked around the burning camp, satisfied at how closely her own work resembled the work of a dragon on the warpath. There was no one left outside their little clump. A few shapes darted behind them, running into a few wooden buildings or turning over tables to use for shelter. It would not be long. Just one more fight.

A well-placed fireball would have blown them all to bits and on any other day Serana would have happily flung one right at their feet. As it was, fighting a dragon had taxed her magical talents to their limit. She was unused to being humbled in single combat with anything, human or lizard, and that made her want to show off.

She drew her dagger and twirled it in the sunlight. The bandits looked confused but, given the backdrop of their burning friends, none of them looked terribly confident, either. Eira stalked toward them, passing Serana, her cloak billowing in the wind. Vengeance hung at her side and Serana got a good look at it for the first time since the fight started. It was glowing, red as blood and swirling with black smoke. Eira had clearly not told her the whole story.

For the moment, Serana decided to enjoy the affect it was having on the terrified bandits. Following Eira up the hill, she dropped a frost trap just behind one of the waiting bandits. One of his friends noticed and tried to shout but Serana sent them both scrambling with a few well-placed lightning bolts. The hapless bandit stumbled backward, his shield raised to ward off the lightning, and blew himself to pieces by disturbing the rune.

Eira was on them even before Serana, that black sword of hers sweeping left and right, sending bandits toppling like wheat before the scythe. To their credit, the bandits stood their ground, and Serana leapt in before Eira found herself surrounded. She heard the screams of bandits being cut down by Vengeance, heard the swish of Eira’s cloak just behind her, and forced herself to trust that the woman would not be cut down in this, her moment of triumph.

That was where Serana lost her. The thrill of close combat had always been intoxicating to Serana. She had always been an accomplished mage, true, but fighting up close had been so exhilarating. The rush of fighting with your hands against someone with a blade, of seeing the arrogance fade with that first swing; there was nothing in the world like it. There must have been six or seven bandits all charging her at once. The first came at her with a sloppy, two-handed swing that should only have been used against firewood. Serana languidly sidestepped, slipped right up beside the poor man, and slid her dagger between his ribs.

His friends poured in behind him. Serana gave in to the dance and let the world fade away. It was just her and the poor fools trying to kill her. It was only when the lot of them lay dead at her feet, the last crumpling to the ground with a mortal wound to the back of his head, that she remembered Eira. She turned to find Eira cutting apart the last of the camp’s guards with graceful, terrifying swings. Two bandits rushed her at once, both with shields and both looking more competent than anyone else they had encountered so far.

Serana had wanted to see Vengeance in action. Now she got her wish. Eira looked like she was on the practice grounds, teaching new Companions the way of the sword and humbling the young whelps to bring them into line. She staggered the first man with a few quick pokes around his guard, giving the other man a chance to strike at her side. Eira was already gone. She all but appeared beside him, her sword already under his shield and pushing up through his chest. Before he hit the ground Eira had moved to his friend and, in a flurry of blows, wounded his sword arm, pushed his shield aside as though it were nothing, and took off his head in a final, brutal swing.

That was the end of the battle. Serana watched as Eira twirled Vengeance and started marching toward the last part of the camp untouched by fire. The two wooden cabins Serana had spotted on their way in looked closed, their doors slammed and probably barred, as though that would do any good. Whoever was inside had not thought of saving their friends and now a handful of stragglers littered the clearing in groups of twos and threes. A few cowered behind an overturned table. One had a longbow but had declined even to draw an arrow.

Serana looked them all up and down, searching for their rat-faced man. She saw only blonde Nordic hair on faces that looked too flat, too fat, or too feminine to be him. The houses might hold him, and she was about to start picking the miscreants off one by one when Eira stopped. It was so sudden Serana feared for a moment she had been struck by an arrow. Then she followed Eira’s stare. One of the bandits behind the table had peered over the edge, finally showing his face.

Eira raised Vengeance and pointed it right at his chest. His friends abandoned him in an instant. Some even ran toward the gate, thinking the murderous women would just ignore them now that they had found their man. Serana disillusioned them. The strain of using so much magic was beginning to wear her down but she had more than enough left in her to make sure Eira would not be disturbed. Eira cut down the last two without so much as looking at them as she walked straight for the man still cowering behind the table.

There was nowhere left for him to run, no one left to save him. Serana stopped a good distance back, eager to give Eira some privacy. She found herself grinning wolfishly at what was about to happen. She had no doubt it would be violent, even brutal, but all she had to do was think back on Eira’s face the night she had spoken of Natalie. When she thought about that, about Eira’s pain and loss and the things that loss had made her do, Serana found herself wishing she could join in.

Eira rounded the table and stalked toward the rat as he backed away. He turned and ran, eyes wild as he searched for an escape that did not exist. Eira’s dagger caught him in the leg and he went down with a shriek. Serana watched, uncaring as the man crawled feebly toward one of the buildings. Just as Eira reached him, he rolled toward her, slashing wildly with a dagger. Eira was quicker. Vengeance barely moved an inch and the man was howling again, both his weapon and his right hand now lying in the grass a few paces away.

Now whimpering in fear, the rat-faced man pushed himself up until he was sitting against the wall of the building. Eira stood in front of him, Vengeance streaming smoke and clearly glowing red in the sunlight.

“What do you want?” the rat squeaked.

“I want to kill you,” Eira said quietly.

The rat whimpered louder. “Please, please don’t. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Serana winced, expecting those to be the last words he ever spoke.

“I wish you could,” Eira murmured. “I really do.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything. I know people, whatever it is I promise I can get it for you.”

Serana found herself clenching her teeth. Eira spoke for her. “You don’t remember, do you? You don’t even remember her face. Her name.”

If he was not shaking before, the little bastard was plainly terrified now. “Who?”

Eira lowered herself to a crouch in such a slow, deliberate way that it looked barely human. “Eight years ago, you took away the one thing that mattered to me. And you did it without a thought. You were hurt. You went to my wife and asked her to save you. And she did. She saved your life and you repaid her by torturing her and leaving her to die in the dark.”

The rat tried to push himself back through the solid wood as Eira got to her feet. “I’m sorry. I –“

“And she wasn’t the only one.” Eira’s voice was cold enough to freeze the rat’s blood. It never rose above a whisper but the words were as clear as shouts. “That’s why you need to die. For all the men and women you’ve killed, all the lives you’ve torn apart. I know killing you won’t make that right. It won’t take back all the pain you’ve caused.”

Eira rose and stepped right up to him, planting one foot before him and resting Vengeance on his chest. “But I can make damn sure you don’t cause any more. I’ll see you in hell.”

The rat cried out one last time as Vengeance made good its name.

The camp went silent. The whole world seemed to go quiet as eight years of pain and grief were vented in the swing of a sword. Eira’s shoulders sagged, her chest beginning to heave as the weight of it all crashed down around her. Serana could see the sunlight shining off the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes were closed as she relived that night one final time.

Serana wanted to go to her. She wanted to take her by the hand and hold her and tell her this was the end. Natalie could rest. No one would ever lose another loved one to the monster she had slain. It was over. Her fight was over, and she had won.

Instead, she was silent, and Eira stood alone.


	16. Where the Story Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira recovers from avenging Natalie, prompting Serana to share a very old story

Eira was not sure how long it had taken for them to leave that hilltop. She had lost herself in her memories for hours before Serana had gently led her away, guiding her to a place they could rest for the night. If she had not done something, Eira probably would still have been standing there, staring at the body of Natalie’s murderer and weeping like a child.

It was dark when she finally came to her senses. She woke beside a small fire, Vengeance sitting across her lap and a rag clutched in one hand. The sword probably did not even need to be cleaned in the first place but her unconscious self had decided otherwise. She wondered how long she had been sitting there, cleaning the already-immaculate blade and staring at the flames dancing on the black steel.

Serana had settled down on the other side of the fire where she could keep an eye on Eira and the outside world at the same time. The gesture was not lost on her, and Eira felt herself flush with sudden shame. Her memory was fuzzy and she found she could no longer remember everything that had happened during the battle. What had she done? She had avenged Natalie, but how? After so many years of hunting, of suffering that same nightmare over and over, when she was faced with finally putting an end to it all, had she lost her mind? She had already nearly abandoned Serana to a dragon. What if she had done worse this time?

Serana was watching her through the flames. She looked concerned. Eira had not fought with her, had she? When Serana had tried to lead her from the hill, she had gone quietly. Right?

Eira slowly got to her feet and shuffled her way around the fire to stand beside Serana. She left Vengeance where it lay. “Where are we?” Eira croaked, noticing for the first time how tight her throat had become.

“A bit west of the bandit camp,” Serana answered quietly. “I thought it’d be best if we made ourselves scarce before the scavengers started poking around. We’re safe here, though. Don’t worry.”

 _Don’t worry._ Eira was not worried, not for herself. “Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “Should have kept going and camped by that dragon. Wouldn’t have to worry about scavengers poking around that thing.”

The joke fell as flat as it deserved to but Serana smiled anyway. “This is why you get to pick where we camp every night.”

Eira managed quiet laugh and sat down beside Serana. Maybe she had not done anything terrible. It was not hard to believe that she had just stood there, mindless until Serana came and led her off. Even now the very idea of attacking Serana was unthinkable. She would have to be beyond insane and not just because it would no doubt be her last act in this mortal world. And, if she had done nothing terrible, that left only the things she had done to the bandits. They had killed plenty of them before but never had Eira done it with such malice, such plain and unblemished ecstasy. Even now the memory of what she had become churned her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Eira said as she settled in. “I didn’t want for you to see all that.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Eira. If you hadn’t done it, I would have done it for you,” Serana said, her voice calm. “You had every reason to hate them.”

“Maybe,” Eira mumbled. “But I think you and I have both seen too much hate in our time. I didn’t want you to have to see more.”

 _Not from me._ She left it unsaid but she hoped Serana would understand her meaning. The vampire cocked her head to the side and regarded Eira in the moonlight. “I suppose we could have tried a different approach. We could have taught the bandits to love. They would have picked flowers for us and we could have given Skyrim a reason to smile again.”

A very undignified snort escaped before Eira could stifle it. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“No, but you were blaming yourself for not doing it.” Serana was smiling, too, her lips curled just enough to expose one elegant fang in the firelight. “We aren’t here to save everyone, Eira. We can’t save everyone. Maybe some of those bandits would have walked away from that camp tomorrow and gone to join the Companions. Maybe they would have turned into real heroes. But most of them would have died there, robbing and murdering anyone who came across them. We did the best we could. Eira, that man you were hunting, we didn’t find him with a family. We didn’t find him in a market stall or in the halls of a Jarl. We found him on the road. You heard his friends when they saw us on the road. We did what we had to do.”

There was truth in her words and Eira knew it. She gave Serana a grateful smile before looking toward the fire and drifting off into her own little world once more. What they had done today was the right thing. Those people would have kept right on killing, destroying the lives of unsuspecting innocents until someone stronger and angrier came along to stop them. That was just how the world was these days. Between rebel soldiers haunting the roads, dragons roaming the skies, and the High King dead in his chair, the whole world was in a state of chaos.

Serana stretched one hand toward the fire, urging it to twist around her hand like an adoring pet. “As for what you did to him,” she said, pausing to give Eira a look far kinder than she deserved. “You made it quick. That’s a mercy he didn’t deserve and one I would not have granted him in your place.”

“I wanted to drag it out,” Eira admitted. Her skin crawled at the thought and she felt dirty just thinking about it. “Gods, after all those years, the things I wanted to do to him… I wanted him to know what she went through. I wanted to hurt him.”

The tortures Eira had dreamed up were nothing short of inhuman and she had been feeding off them for nearly a decade. She could still feel that black ball of rage burning a hole in her chest, furious at how quickly she had let it end. Natalie had deserved better, it screamed. She deserved justice.

Serana nudged her shoulder. “But you didn’t.”

That was not how it felt for Eira. “I always wanted to make it about Natalie, you know. It was never supposed to be about revenge or about making him pay for what he did to me. I wanted it to be about what she went through, and about making it so no one else would ever have to go through that again.”

It was a ridiculous thing to say, especially considering who she was saying it to, but it was the truth. “That doesn’t sound very hateful to me.”

“That’s not why I hunted him for so long. I wasn’t on that hilltop because I wanted to save other people, I was there because he took her from me. He took the woman I loved away from me and I wanted to make him pay.”

Serana craned her neck to look out over the quiet landscape. Eira could see a few wolves moving around near a wooded copse not far away but that was all. The stars shone down on a world very much at peace. There were no dragons here, no bandits on the roads. They were all dead. If someone had put it into verse, the Companions would have raised their mugs and bawled out the lyrics until all of Whiterun knew the tale. If Eira had not been there, and if she had been ten years younger, she might have joined in the song herself and wondered at the majesty of the two brave heroes who had taken on such impossible odds.

Alas, Eira was too old a woman for that. She smirked at the thought. If the mood had been brighter, she would have made a joke of it to Serana.

“Do you remember the Dwemer ruin?” Serana asked in her softest voice, the one she used to imitate the wind. “When I helped you see?”

Eira nodded. “You said you had done it before.”

“I did. It was a long time ago, from even before I was a vampire. There was a boy, a kid that I used to spend time with. Sven.” Serana laughed quietly as she said the name. “Stupid name, right? The hell I gave him for that.”

“Sounds like you were really there for him.”

“Well, he could have changed the damn thing,” Serana said, her voice indignantly rising out of its quiet refrains. “It’s not like I introduced myself as Serana Volkihar. He probably would have tried to put a stake through my heart right there.”

“And who were you to him?”

“I don’t think that’s an important part of the story,” Serana glared but her smile took away the worst of its bite. “The point is, he was my friend. Probably my first real friend, actually. My parents wanted me to learn to fight. They wanted me to be powerful. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I suppose it all makes a certain, horrible kind of sense. They infiltrated a cult of Boethiah. If you don’t know anything about them, I’ll save you the trouble right now: they like to fight. A lot. Really, that’s all they do.”

Eira thought about pointing out how much Serana still liked to fight but knew enough to keep her mouth shut. Daedric Lords were not a place for jokes with Serana. Not as far as Eira was concerned, anyway.

Serana shook her head and continued. “Well, my parents had already taught me to defend myself. I was a good ten years younger than anyone else but that didn’t stop me from showing them what I could do. A few tried to take advantage of me early on. They didn’t last long.”

“You killed them”

“They weren’t my first,” Serana said, her voice going quiet once more. “But yes, I did. That’s how things worked in the cult. You fought, you trained, sometimes you killed. It was all to win Boethiah’s favor and everyone took part. Sven was a little older than me but I guess he liked seeing someone his age. A few days after I showed up, a few older men tried to get me alone in one of the practice rings. Sven didn’t let them. He stepped in on my side.”

Serana sighed and Eira thought she heard her whisper something under her breath. Eira waited for her to recover her thoughts before prompting her. “So what happened?”

“We won. I still don’t know why he stepped in. It went against everything the cult stood for. If he was a true believer, maybe he was just gaining my trust before stabbing me in the back.” It was obvious that Serana had rehearsed that line and even now did not believe it. Again she sighed. “I don’t know. The point is, he helped me, and I wasn’t a follower of their stupid cult so I had no problem forging a little alliance with him. We said we would keep each other alive. That way we would both become stronger. It just made sense, or so he said.”

“He was the one you practiced your spell on,” Eira said quietly.

“Yes. It took years but we began to trust each other. He –“ Serana paused, her eyes going glassy for just a moment. “We were close. Very close.”

Eira took Serana’s meeting, shifting closer to the poor woman and watching as a completely foreign look came over her. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t like you and Natalie, I know, but he was still important to me. He meant something to me.” Serana shook her head and rubbed her jaw with one hand. “It was a long time ago. What matters is we were close and that he was my friend when no one else was. What happened between us doesn’t matter.”

It was a lie, and if it was not obvious from the way she spoke it, it became so when EIra recognized that expression at last. She had loved him. “What happened to him?”

Serana stared at the fire as it melted away the heartbreak on her face, replacing it with the cold, murderous gaze of vampire royalty. “Someone killed him. Some stranger wandered into the camp one day. She looked like just another traveler. She spoke with the priest and asked to join. The next thing I knew, Sven was in the ring with her. And then she just…”

She trailed off, shaking her head and gesturing at the fire. “Like he was nothing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So was she,” Serana said quietly. “After it happened, I saw red. The next thing I knew, I was standing over her body.” Her eyes found Eira’s and for the first time they were full of shame. “I wasn’t like you. I wasn’t quick. I wasn’t thinking about other people. I wanted to make her pay.”

Eira was at a loss for words. She put one hand on Serana’s knee and squeezed. It was a pitiful gesture. “I would have done the same.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“You don’t think so? I’ve been out here for eight years, Serana. If I’d had him in front of me, if I’d watched him kill Natalie, do you think I would have spoken a single word to him?”

“You wouldn’t have tortured him,” Serana said firmly. “You wouldn’t have killed everyone around you just because you had lost her. When I woke up, I was standing over what was left of her and everyone around me was dead. I killed them all, Eira.”

Eira knew she was supposed to be saying something but nothing came out. Serana was shaking her head. “But I suppose it was all part of the plan. I tried to leave after I’d killed them but a voice in my head stopped me. I’d just slain Boethiah’s champion, one of her favorite warriors. She had been sent to find anyone worthy and test their strength. The voice told me I’d earned her favor. When I returned home, my parents were delighted. Of course they knew of the feud between Molag Bal and Boethiah. How could he resist? When presented with her champion, with one of her most favored subjects, how could he not take her for his own?”

Serana shivered and twisted her mouth in disgust. Eira did not move her hand, trying to anchor her to the ground with the barest touch on her leg. It was not enough. “That wasn’t your fault. You did what anyone else would have done in your place.”

“No. Not anyone else. That’s what I’m trying to say, Eira. You’re not like me,” Serana said, smiling and looking down at Eira’s hand on her leg. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. I know because I was in the same place as you and I made very different choices. You’re right, we’ve both been through a lot, but believe me when I say you have no idea what I’ve done to get here. You’re wrong about me.”

“I doubt that,” Eira said quietly.

“Of course you would,” Serana muttered, shaking her head and scoffing at the idea. “That’s who you are. You were one of those knights in shining armor, the ones you couldn’t see with among the Companions. You’re the kind of person people tell stories about. Someone who catches vampires before they skin their knees.”

Eira smiled at that. “So, I’m impulsive? Arrogant? Beguiled by beautiful women?”

At last Serana laughed. “Those are not the words I would have picked, but I can hardly argue. I would call you young, Eira. Young and noble and stupid.”

“You’re too kind.”

“You should hope so, for your sake.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Serana said lightly. “Who is going to tell your story once you’re gone? Who will keep your legend alive, Eira the Dragonslayer? Eira, whose sword was made of smoke, who could vanish into the faintest shadows, and whose aim was as true as her heart?”

“Whose companion was a vampire of terrible wit and boundless imagination,” she countered, trying in vain to hide her smile.

“And who, again, will be telling her story for thousands of years,” Serana said. “So, unless you want me to focus on the way you snored or how you chew with your mouth open, you’ll be respectful.”

“Chew with my –“ Eira blustered.

“Never in my life have I used magic to stifle the snoring of another woman,” Serana insisted, completely ignoring her protests. “Truly, before I came along, it’s a wonder you were never silenced by a pack of well-meaning wolves.”

She raised a finger, intent on arguing that she had never snored once in her entire adult life, but found Serana’s smile too infectious. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, Serana of the Volkihar, Daughter of Coldharbour and vampire of pure blood, whose spells could match a dragon’s fire and whose beauty was only eclipsed by her brilliance.”

Serana preened and sat up straighter. “There we go. Keep that up and you won’t have a thing to worry about.”

Eira glared at Serana for a moment before looking away toward the horizon. One of these days she would need to find a way to tell Serana she was full of crap. The things she had gone through made Eira’s problems look like paper cuts. She had survived so much more. Why she would ever look up to someone like Eira was beyond understanding.

“So, what will you do now?”

Serana’s voice had gone quiet again. Eira turned to find her looking worried. “What do you mean?”

“It’s over, isn’t it? You found him.”

It should have been. Eira smiled as she thought about that. “You’re right. That’s odd, isn’t it? It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.”

“That’s because it wasn’t the end. You still haven’t reached the last page. Every good story has an epilogue, Eira,” Serana said as she regarded her in the firelight. She hesitated for a long time before finishing the thought. “You need to go write yours.”

“What?”

“You can still start over, Eira. You can have a normal life. You don’t need to keep following me around out here.”

Serana seemed to shrink away as she said it, her eyes almost pleading for Eira to agree. For her part, Eira did her best not to gape. “You want me to leave?”

“You’ve done more than enough for me. Look at what we’ve been through so far and all we’ve done is find one Elder Scroll. Eira, listen to me. You’re going to die if you stay with me. You have to know that.” Serana fidgeted and brought her knee up toward her chest. She rested her arm and looked away, almost turning her back on Eira completely.

“You’re not serious.”

“Aren’t you listening? I’m giving you a chance to leave.” Serana ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back behind her ear and giving Eira a soft look. “You’ve been a good friend – a better friend than I could have asked for. You deserve to end your story in a bed, not a ditch. You still have a chance. And I want you to take it.”

Eira blinked slowly, staring in disbelief as Serana began picking at something on her trousers. Leave. Leave and start a new life. Maybe she would settle down and find a dog. She tried to imagine taking up farming as she had so often joked. There was plenty of land out there. How long could she just sit outside and listen to the wind? She would almost certainly die out here, Serana was right about that, and she really had done a lot to help save the world.

“You know, for such a smart woman, you can be incredibly dense.”

Serana jerked back as though slapped. “What?”

“You really think I’m going to leave? After everything we just went through, you think I’m just going to walk away and let you save the world on your own?”

“No, because that would involve you making the smart choice for once,” Serana growled. “Eira –“

“Serana. You helped me put my wife to rest. I don’t think I could ever tell you what that means to me. What you did up there, I can’t ever thank you enough for that.” Eira shook her head and smiled broadly. “Like it or not, the only way you’re getting rid of me now is if I’m dead.”

Serana lowered her knee and leaned back toward Eira. “Really?” she asked as she came closer. A small flame snapped to life and hovered above her open hand. “You’re sure that’s the only way?”

Eira did not move but made a show of regarding the ball of fire before answering. “Well, unless you wanted to try asking nicely one more time.”

“See? I’m not all bad, am I?” Serana let the flame fizzle out and went back to sitting comfortably at Eira’s side.

Looking at Skyrim like this, it was easy to believe they could take on the whole world. Serana was right in saying they had already been through a lot together. And they had indeed found only one of the Elder Scrolls they would need to stop Harkon from killing the sun and half of Tamriel along with it. Even after they found the next scroll, they still had to find Auriel’s Bow and then, well, then they didn’t even have a plan. Take the bow and hide it under the floorboards somewhere? Perhaps there was a friendly dragon they could trust to hoard it for them.

Well, whatever they did, Eira would be right there to see it through.

She smiled into the fire. “We killed a dragon today.”

“We killed a dragon,” Serana repeated. “And that was not even the most exciting thing we did all day.”

Eira shook her head. “No, it was not.”

She turned to see Serana still staring at her. “Regretting coming with me?”

This time Eira answered honestly. “Not at all. I’m not going anywhere, Serana.”

Serana grinned. “Good.”


	17. Locked Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana guides Eira through the maze of passages beneath Castle Volkihar in search of her mother

“I am not on board with this plan.”

Serana could almost hear her teeth grinding as Eira restated her opinion for the third time. “Well, then you should have said something before coming _on board_.”

Eira rolled her eyes and glared as she worked the oars of the tiny rowboat. “I did say something. Even before we got to the dock, I told you this would never work.”

“It will work,” Serana insisted, fidgeting with her hood as she slumped further into the rear of the boat. “No one will be watching for us. We’ll take them by surprise and be gone before anyone’s the wiser.”

“No one will be watching?” Eira repeated with obvious skepticism. “It’s not a big island, Serana. Someone is bound to be standing guard outside or at least looking out a window.”

Even with her back to the sun, the burning rays seemed to pass right through the thick cloak, pricking her skin like tiny torches. “You clearly haven’t spent enough time with us. Those windows have their curtains drawn tight and any thralls on watch will be posted near the entrances. My father is nothing if not arrogant. He won’t expect someone to sail out to his secluded island. Not in secret, anyway.”

Eira grumbled quietly but put her back into rowing once more. She did not say it but sincerely hoped she was right about this. They were supposed to go in quietly, search for her mother, and get out with the scroll, all without starting a fight with Harkon and his minions. This was not the time or place for a final showdown, not least because of Eira.

Serana regarded her as she toiled, her back straining with every stroke of the oars. She had bent her head to keep the sun’s glare from her eyes and so did not see the frown growing on Serana’s face. Grateful as she was to have someone else along for the journey, she found herself wishing Eira had just agreed to go home. This was not the place for someone like her. Someone like her, Serana realized, extended to anyone with a heartbeat and a desire to stay alive. As Castle Volkihar loomed large over Eira’s shoulders, she realized she should have just knocked Eira over the head with a large rock and left her on the dock for her own safety.

The keel ground silently into the sand as Serana vaulted over the railing and into the surf. Eira shipped the oars and followed, her movements Muffled along with those of the ship. She might not have been expecting anyone to greet them on the shore but that did not mean she was willing to take any chances. For all she knew, her father now made a habit of taking evening walks on the beach, staring hungrily toward Solitude and the land that would soon be his. It was the sort of thing she tried to imagine him doing; it made it easier to believe he was someone different.

Just as she had on their first visit, Eira dragged the boat up the shore and into the shadow of the castle. There Serana warded it, the spell strong enough to discourage the curious but weak enough to last for several days if need be. It would have to be enough. She comforted herself with the thought that, if they were trapped inside for several days and the wards on their boat failed, they would likely have bigger problems than swimming all the way home.

Besides, it had been ages since she had practiced her spells of Waterbreathing. Or, better yet, those that Waterwalking. She could just imagine the look on Eira’s face as she sputtered and gasped, only to find Serana standing calmly on the waves. She would need a clever remark for the occasion. Out for a swim? Oh, what smells like wet dog? She had been meaning to ask Eira if the rumors about the Companions were true. That seemed a good way to broach the subject.

Eira was tugging at one of her shirtsleeves, the deep green of the fabric now made deeper by seawater. “She said not to get it wet for a few days.”

Serana rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to drag Eira up the beach like a child. “I don’t know why you insisted on new clothes anyway.”

“I got tired of wearing my heart on my sleeve,” Eira quipped as she followed her toward the castle. “And on my chest, and a little on my pants, too.”

“I thought the red looked good on you.”

“Probably because it made you hungry,” Eira grumbled.

“You didn’t get a new cloak,” Serana pointed out.

“Neither did you.”

It was fair, though Serana was not about to admit her own attachment to the garment. “I pulled most of the blood out,” she said defensively. “Just like I got it out of the rest of my clothes and just like I could have gotten it out of yours, if you’d let me.”

Truth be told, laundering her own clothing had proved more taxing than her usual magical exploits simply because she had never tried to do it before. While Eira had stopped off in Solitude to do her shopping, Serana had put enormous effort into cleaning her own clothes, culminating in an undignified rush to a nearby pond. Water helped to draw out the blood and summoning it from thin air had proven unpleasant and unfamiliar. It should have been simple. She could pull an iceberg from her sleeve at a moment’s notice but a bucket of clean water had left her vexed and humiliated.

Fortunately Eira had not been around. Serana returned to the path with time enough to get bored, find a rather large raven, and bewitch it to find and heckle Eira as she wandered the market. That had been the highlight of the afternoon.

Eira had not seen it that way. “I needed new armor anyway, and with that damned bird of yours, I’m lucky someone hasn’t tried to punch a hole in it yet.”

Serana chuckled in spite of herself. “He was harmless.”

“Yeah but pitchforks and torches aren’t. I thought they were going to run me out of town once it started shouting at me.”

For a moment, Serana forgot her nerves, a very dignified laugh bursting through her lips. Even as they rounded the island and the small inlet they were looking for came into view, she could not help but enjoy the memory. She had not actually been there, of course, but she had taught the bird a few phrases to help speed Eira along. Eira had practically tripped over her own feet trying to get out of Solitude as fast as she could.

Serana took a moment to eye their chosen entrance. A hidden inlet hidden off to the side of the island that had once allowed the castle’s servants to keep the larders stocked without tracking mud all over the main hall. Her father had used it to import more grisly cargo once upon a time as the dietary needs of the castle’s lord changed. There was something fitting in using it to foil his master stroke.

“Speaking of pitchforks,” Eira grumbled, setting an arrow to her bow. “Looks like someone is expecting us.”

The docks had been carved out of the island itself, leaving polished stone that gleamed in the sunlight, and now every inch of that rock was watched by her father’s minions. Living guards had once stood watch here and now their bones kept up their vigil, faithful beyond death. Serana watched the skeletons rattle about on the heights, their skulls sweeping left and right as though they still had eyes.

“No,” Serana said, holding Eira up as they approached. “Not expecting us. If they knew we were coming, they would have sent more than this.”

“That looks like plenty,” Eira countered, insisting on complaining as she always did.

Serana looked closer at the docks. There were no vampires to keep watch, no living thralls to sound the alarm. These guards had no doubt been here, unattended and forgotten for thousands of years. She was amazed more of them had not been washed out to sea. The storms that wracked the island were infrequent but she remembered well the pounding of the rain on the windows. That those memories were not without their fondness surprised her.

But it was not the time to be getting lost in her own memories. Serana looked from Eira, still fingering the arrow on her bow, to the skeletons, and made her choice. “Let’s do this quietly.”

Eira did not even have time to nod. Serana put her hand out, felt for the enchantments that bound these corpses to this world, and willed their threads to fall away. The result was instantaneous. As one, the bones of the old watchmen crumbled to the ground. The clatter of weapons filled the air, steel ringing off the steps as swords rolled wherever they pleased. More than a few splashed into the water and sank to the depths.

The echoes died in moments, leaving only the sound of the sea. Serana looked to Eira and smiled, a picture of innocence.

Instead of properly applauding her, Eira just rolled her eyes and stomped her way toward the now-deserted docks. Serana followed and made suitably unhappy noises. She was just trying to lighten the mood. If she dwelled too long on what they were here to do or what would happen if they failed – or, worse, succeeded – then she might very well lose her nerve and go back to the boat.

That was not true and she knew it. Nothing would drive her off this island, not before she had what she needed. She knew she needed to face it sooner or later. She needed to admit, at least to herself, what this was all leading up to. They were getting close. Well, perhaps not close, as they only had one Elder Scroll to their names and Auriel’s Bow remained far out of reach, but they were on their way. They had already proven that neither a dragon nor an army of Falmer would stop them. She would need to prepare herself for the day they actually achieved the impossible, and for today, when she finally saw her mother again.

Serana reached the appropriate door first, Eira having dropped behind her during their walk, and gave it a shove. It didn’t move. She growled. They had come this far only to need a key?

“Wait-wait-wait!” Eira yelped, one hand finding Serana’s arm. “Okay, hold on. Let me have a look.”

Eira slid in front of her, eyeing the fist still clenched at her waist. Serana hid her embarrassment and waited for Eira to turn away before releasing the fire burning in her hand. She had been ready to blow the door to pieces just for interrupting her thoughts. In all likelihood, no one would have heard the explosion, but Eira was right to be careful. Serana’s fingers came apart unwillingly. She could still feel the fire clinging to them like cobwebs. She needed to keep her head if they were going to make it out of this alive.

No sooner had Eira crouched in front of the door than the thing sprang open. Eira slid a bent piece of metal into one of her belt pockets and retrieved her bow as quickly as drawing a breath. Serana could not help but admire it.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“I grew up alone and frequently became hungry,” Eira said quickly, peering through the door. “Can we save sharing time for later?”

Serana gave her a black look and stalked through the door. She would have smacked her if they had still been in the boat.

The castle undercroft was exactly as she remembered. There was almost no light but there was even less to see save for grotesque, oversized rats and heaps of human bones. Thankfully the smell had not lingered. Serana thanked every god she could name that Harkon had found another way of disposing of his evening meals. She could handle the smell, of course, but Eira would surely have complained long and loud about how it offended her delicate sensibilities.

They moved along in silence, creeping through the cisterns and over stone catwalks. Serana had been worried her memory of the place had faded, and indeed she could not have told Eira which door led where just from looking, but her feet remembered what her head did not. She had walked these passages often a child – perhaps too often – and those memories were not so easily cast aside. Eira followed in silence, her vision again enhanced by Serana’s magic, waiting until they reached the next door to slip ahead and begin working the lock.

Harkon, it seemed, had become paranoid as the years went by, and had slapped a lock on everything with hinges. Perhaps he imagined his estranged wife creeping through the tunnels with the rats, eating them as the hunger grew intense and slowly growing feral in the darker corners of the keep.

The lock clicked open and Eira turned the knob. “This whole place is deserted,” she hissed, peering through the door.

“Saying things like that is great way to get proven wrong,” Serana retorted, her own voice a whisper.

Eira pulled the door open, its hinges creaking and squealing until Serana Muffled them. A few nearby rats scampered for shelter but otherwise nothing moved. Serana moved through the door first, Eira close behind, and searched the room for any sign of movement. Again there was nothing; only rats.

“I’ve seen the main hall. I can’t imagine any of the people there skulking around in this,” Eira pointed out as soon as the door closed behind them.

Serana rolled her eyes but she did have a point. “This place was abandoned even when I was growing up,” she said quietly, ignoring her own advice and daring the world to prove her wrong.

“Can’t imagine why,” Eira mumbled as she passed a pile of bones that came nearly to her chest.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, vampires aren’t exactly squeamish about dead bodies,” Serana said as she looked for the next door.

“So is it the décor? No plush chairs or fancy carpets?”

“Maybe,” Serana admitted with a smirk. “Probably just old habits.”

They rounded the corner to find a few Death Hounds rooting through one of the piles. Eira quickly leveled her bow but Serana raised a hand to stop her. She had already known about these two, having heard the soft pattering of their steps the moment they entered the room, and had charmed them as soon as they came into view. It was a simple spell, one that would let them pass unmolested and would allow the animals to be on with their day the moment they were out of sight. Eira gave them a wide berth anyway. Serana waited patiently at the far door, grinning lazily as Eira set to work on the lock. It popped open with a soft click that was soon followed by the sound of Eira scuttling through the door.

Serana followed her a moment later, easing the door shut behind her. “Afraid I’d let them eat you?”

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t let them kill me,” Eira said, her voice completely devoid of sarcasm. “But chew on me, toss me around like a rabbit, maybe bury me in one of those piles?”

“I wouldn’t let them bury you,” Serana complained. “You don’t know me at all.”

Eira made a few noises that probably meant ‘I’m-not-convinced’ and waited for Serana to take the lead again. After another moment she spoke up again. “You said old habits?”

She had, but she had also been regretting that little slip of her tongue. “I used to come down here as a girl,” Serana explained. “It let me get away from everything that was happening in the castle and just be alone for a while. Coming down here, I could go out on an adventure, you know? Fight a dragon, save the damsel in distress, and be home in time for dinner.”

She was not exactly uncomfortable confiding in Eira, but neither did she feel like baring her soul for the woman. Not down here, anyway. The décor was all wrong.

Eira knelt in front of another locked door and chuckled. “Well, wish granted. One dragon slain, one damsel saved.”

“Finally going to admit I had that under control?”

“I was talking about me,” Eira said, just begging for a good smack to the head. “I think I know how you feel, though. I was in an orphanage for a time and, growing up there, I got good at pretending I was anywhere else.”

“Feel like sharing?” Serana asked snidely.

“Only if you promise to be a good listener.”

“So, you were an orphan?” she prompted.

“That’s right, proud street urchin of the Imperial City,” Eira said, fussing with the lock and frowning as she did. “There was the little yard they put us in – not a yard really, but that’s not the point – and the kids would all go off and, I don’t know, do whatever little kids do for fun. Play tag, I guess.”

“Not you?”

“Is that so hard to imagine? Little Eira, all alone, finding some overgrown corner and pretending she was off in the wilds of Valenwood?”

Serana could not resist a smile. It was very easy to picture. “Valenwood, huh? Natalie already had you wrapped around her finger.”

As soon as she spoke, Serana winced. She still felt uncomfortable talking about Natalie, no matter what Eira said about it. To her great relief, Eira actually chuckled. “Gods, she probably did. Probably made a deal with a Daedra or something. That’s how these stories go, right?”

“Not really. Usually the demon grants the summoner an item of incredible value. All she got was you.”

Eira laughed – really laughed – and Serana found herself Muffling the door to keep anyone from hearing. She did not Muffle Eira. She really wanted to hear that laughter, every jarring note of it. It was a surprisingly rare thing. She would bluster or chuckle here and there, but she never really laughed. Not from the heart. This was something different. Warm, bright, uplifting. It was also very loud, but Serana smiled all the same.

She waited as Eira rested her head against the door, shaking with mirth, the lock and all the rest of the castle momentarily forgotten. “All she got was me,” she repeated, still laughing quietly. “Yeah, she got a bad deal, there.”

They could agree on that. Serana caught herself staring at Eira’s smile and quickly looked back toward the gloomy passages behind them. There was nothing to watch for, of course, but she did have an appearance to maintain. But the fact that some mortal woman had caught her attention went along with that image, right? It happened all the time in her father’s court. Immortal eyes wandered just like any others. Even the most austere of vampires would find themselves a pet, a plaything to amuse themselves with for a few months, even a few years, before growing bored and casting it aside. That was normal. Never mind that imaging Eira like that, mindless and servile, temporary and replaceable and doomed to be thrown aside, left her profoundly sick and blindingly angry.

That was not how it should end. If everything went sideways and she was left to her father’s mercy, she should be the one to pay for this. Not Eira. If she could just save Eira, that would be enough. She would stay with her father’s court, watch the world burn from the tower windows, just so long as Eira was safe beside her. She would give her blood for that. She would trade the world for that.

Serana shook her head and prayed Eira could not read her mind. _All that from her laughter?_ Either Serana was growing weak in the knees or one of them really had made a secret Daedric pact. She settled on the former. She had spent too much time around Eira. That was all.

Someone needed to change the subject. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You said you learned this from being hungry,” she said, nodding toward the lockpick. “So you weren’t always in that orphanage.”

Eira sighed. “First of all, you’ve clearly never eaten orphanage food. We would have been better off begging, or at least that’s what we told ourselves. And, after I started to get older, there were certain… expectations of what a girl should do when she found herself out of money. I decided I didn’t like those expectations and left while I could. So I went out on the street – almost froze the first night – and tried to survive on my own. It was tough but I got pretty good at getting places I wasn’t supposed to be.”

“What about your family?” Serana had to ask, even if she already knew the answer.

“Never knew them,” Eira said. There was no trace of pain in her voice. “Probably dead or took one look at me when I popped out and tossed me to the street.”

Serana winced. “Sorry.”

Eira shrugged. “Thanks, but I got over it a long time ago. Besides, after what we’ve been going through for you, I’m kind of glad I never knew them. There are worse things than wondering.”

She was not sure if there was any truth to that. Serana looked at the floor and sighed. She loved her parents, as deranged and terrible as they were, and she was glad for the memories of them. Eira had taught her that, or at least reminded her of it when she had saved her father’s dagger. Was that why Eira had asked about her father?

Serana found herself chuckling quietly. She really was spending too much time around Eira if she thought this was funny. “Maybe we shouldn’t share stories anymore. Every time we do, it just gets more depressing.”

“You aren’t comforted by my suffering?” Eira asked, a bit of mirth invading her voice just as surely as it had Serana’s.

“A little. Maybe the next time I feel down, I can try making you suffer until I feel better.”

“Anything for you,” Eira grumbled.

The lock finally clicked and whatever Eira was going to say next was lost in the rush of victory. The look on her face was priceless. Serana watched as she flourished her pick and stood beside the door, glorying in her little triumph. She gestured to the door, waiting for Serana to step through first.

In truth, Serana had been glad for the delay. This was the last door before the courtyard. This was where they would start their search for her mother. There was no going back after this, and while she did not expect to find her lounging on a bench with the scroll safely beside her, it would surely not be long before they finally stumbled across her hiding place.

Even so, she pushed through the door, practically running up the stairs to what was the most beautiful part of the castle. She still remembered her mother’s garden. What she had seen here had kindled her love for the world outside the walls and few sights in all her travels had proved equal to what her mother had cultivated in this tiny patch of earth. Whatever she felt for her mother, whatever mix of anxious fear and familial desire she felt at the prospect of their reunion, it paled when compared to her desire to see this place in all its glory one more time.

What she found was a scene from another world. Dead trees, broken masonry, and centuries of weeds that had torn apart the once-perfect garden. There were no signs of beauty here, no carefully planted rows of herbs and flourishing trees that she had cherished as a girl.

“Speaking of depressing,” Eira said under her breath as she emerged from the stairwell.

“It wasn’t like this before,” Serana insisted, trying to convince herself that the memories of this place were not just fabrications of her homesick mind. She had not imagined it. There really had been flowers here before. This had been a place of beauty, of meditation. Peace.

The gnarled roots clawing at her heels whispered it was all in her head.

“I guess it’s a good thing your father didn’t just torch it,” Eira said, her voice lilting as she tried to give Serana hope.

She watched as Eira picked her way toward the center of the courtyard, careful to step only on the stones. Serana might have appreciated her kicking up a few weeds rather than treating this place with such reverence. This was not the garden she remembered. This was a lie.

Yet Eira was right. Why had Harkon not destroyed it? How had it survived thousands of years, each one filled with his characteristic fits of rage? There were hundreds if not thousands of vampires that could not say the same. Serana found herself hoping, however wanly, that it was a sign. Her father was still alive in there, somewhere, not completely consumed by Harkon. He could still be saved.

She crushed those hopes before they could take root. This was not the time.

The sound of stone grinding across stone drew Serana from her thoughts. She looked up to see Eira hopping away from the large moon dial in the center of the garden. It took a moment for her to realize that the dial itself was making the noise. She watched in awe as the sections came apart, each intricately carved phase of the moon now forming a step that led down beneath the castle courtyard. As Eira backed away, her arrow trained on the opening, Serana let her ward fall.

“Very clever, mother,” Serana muttered as she walked to the lip of the staircase. No doubt this was not the only defense her mother had prepared. Wherever this led, and Serana had a few guesses already, it would be full of clever traps and vigilant sentinels.

“This looks familiar,” Eira said as she came forward. She did not sound happy.

“Oh?”

“Something similar happened when I let you out of Dimhollow.” Eira flexed her right hand and grimaced. “Except that time I got a metal spike shoved through my hand.”

“A fitting way to start our time together, don’t you think?” Serana asked cheerfully.

Eira sighed. “Good point. I should have seen all this coming and just walked away.”

Serana walked down the stairs, ward at the ready but not really expecting it to come in handy. Her mother was clever and, unlike her father, that cleverness was not hamstrung by arrogance. She would not leave her doors protected with simple locks or old corpses given new life. Whatever waited for them in these tunnels would be subtle and incredibly lethal.

Or so Serana thought, right up until a skeleton with a longbow nearly took off her head. Eira swooped in a moment later and knocked it to the floor with a shot of her own, giving Serana time to get her head on straight and get into the fight. It was nothing more than a skirmish and Serana entered the fray to find that Eira had everything well in hand. A few dozen moldering skeletons with ancient weapons were no match for either of them, let alone the two of them fighting together. As they sent the last pile of bones skittering into the corner, they saw more come pouring through the far door.

It went on like that for every room and hallway. Serana found herself remembering their first fight together, when they had escaped from Dimhollow. She remembered watching Eira like a hawk, waiting for any excuse to kill her. She had not trusted her at all. Even if it was understandable, it was surely one of the greatest mistakes of her life. Remembering it almost made her laugh. It made her realize how grateful she was that Eira had been the one to find her. Surely no one else would have helped her, let alone caught her before she hit the ground.

The passages slowly led upward, winding around the uncharted depths of Castle Volkihar before bringing them to one of the forgotten towers. They climbed to the top, harried all the way by angry gargoyles and the reanimated dead. As Serana struck down the last gargoyle, she practically flew across the final hall to reach the far door; the last door between her and her mother. Her hand grasped the knob and before she could second guess herself, she pushed against the door to throw it wide.

Locked.

Eira set to work with her pick, walking at an insufferably slow pace and settling down with even more deliberation. Serana scoured the room, ears perked for the click of the lock while she searched for anything they had missed. This had all been too easy. Her mother would have something more waiting for them. Something worse. That was just how she was.

“You seem a bit tense.”

Serana stopped pacing – she had not realized she had started – and offered up a small prayer to the gods, asking for the strength to keep from killing her. “What gave it away?”

“Part of it was the pacing,” Eira admitted cheekily. “And the hole you’re burning in the back of my head.”

“Would you not be anxious in my place?” she asked, turning away to regard the tattered curtains on the windows.

“I’m actually getting pretty anxious in my own place.” The pick stopped moving and Serana guessed Eira was now looking over her shoulder. “Once I open this door, should I expect you to hug her or slap her?”

The question caught Serana off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“She had you locked up, Serana. I know you want to see her again but I can’t imagine that was your idea of a good time. I know, if I were you, I’d be pretty angry with her.”

She wanted to dismiss it outright, wave her hand and tell Eira she was being an idiot, but she was right. It had not been her idea, and she was angry. Really angry.

“Maybe,” Serana said as she forced her personal feelings aside. “But it doesn’t matter right now. We need the scroll. That’s what we’re here for. What I want doesn’t matter.”

There was a long pause before the pick began to shift again. “You know, it doesn’t bother me that we’re here, Serana. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for saving the world, but I’m here for you. If you wanted to come back just to see her and set things right, I’d still be here, messing with this damned ingenious lock of hers.”

Serana turned to stare once again at the back of Eira’s head. She was still grumbling about the lock and pretending she had not just said something completely ridiculous. It still baffled her that Eira was so… well, Eira. She was selfless. Compassionate. And with someone who, by most traditional definitions, was a walking corpse. Serana still half-expected to turn around one day and find Eira groveling at her father’s boots the same way everyone always did. Was this because of Natalie? Was she really so grateful to Serana for helping her?

Eira remained hunched over the pick, oblivious. Damn her. Why did she even care?

The lock finally clicked and Eira let out a sigh of relief. She grabbed her bow, stood, and gestured toward the door. “After you.”

Without a word, Serana passed her by, twisted the knob, and went to see her mother.


	18. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana searches her mother's study for clues and finds something she did not expect

“Gone.”

Serana’s voice was barely more than a whisper but Eira could plainly hear the pain within. She pretended to look around the room, her eyes mostly staying on Serana as she stood near the center, her shoulders sagging in defeat. Eira stood in silence, wishing she knew what to say. Whatever Serana felt for her mother, she deserved a chance to see her one more time, if only to figure out exactly those feelings were.

“All that work and she’s not even here,” Serana said, still staring off at nothing.

Eira glanced around the room before speaking up. “She put a lot of time into this place, right? Even if she’s not here now, she might have been planning to return. She might have left a map or a clue or something.”

It sounded pathetic to Eira’s ears but Serana seemed to perk up at the words. She stopped staring at that same spot on the floor and started looking around the room. “You’re right,” she said, then laughed quietly. “Of course you’re right.”

That was not how it felt from where Eira was standing. She had made her guess based on how long it would have taken her to find so many shiny rocks and animal skeletons, not because she was so experienced in magic. Still, if it helped Serana get up and moving again, she would not say as much.

Serana started looking over the tables and bookshelves.”Right. She wouldn’t have left a setup like this behind. If she was forced into hiding by my father, this would surely be the best place for her to hold out. There’s so much here. And what’s this?”

She took a few steps forward to examine the center of the room. Carved into the stone floor was a spiraling set of glyphs that Eira immediately recognized as bad news – even those without magical experience quickly developed such survival instincts in Skyrim. As she stared at the floor, Eira took stock of the rest of the room. It was not nearly as ominous if she ignored the demonic ritual at the center. The room was not large, more like an oversized study split between two levels. The walls were lined with bookshelves groaning under the weight of accumulated knowledge. The second level seemed to loom over the first with a peculiar stone balcony and the space below it was lined with smaller shelves, each one boasting herbs and ingredients perfectly preserved for thousands of years.

Still staring at the mess on the floor, Serana began muttering to herself. Eira caught the words “she must have been here” over and over, along with a list of reasons that were not entirely agreeable. She still thought hiding under Harkon’s nose was probably the worst idea anyone could have come up with, but she was apparently alone in that opinion.

Eventually Eira wandered over to one of the room’s many tables and began perusing its contents. The line of skulls, both human and not, provided little in the way of invitation, but they were not here to get comfortable. The rest of the table was covered in large crystals, charcoal pencils, and candle wax, despite there being neither parchment nor candles anywhere in sight. Eira picked up one of the darker gems. It was about the size of her palm and black as a moonless night. She held it up to catch some of the sunlight streaming in from windows high above them. If she held it just right, she could catch traces of violet near the edges. It was strangely beautiful.

More beautiful than the dragon skull, at least. She stared up at the thing, suspended over the table by something she could not see, and marveled at how many teeth the damned thing had. It could have swallowed both her and Serana whole and probably still have room to spare. That was not even counting how it could roast them to death first or swoop down, killing them simply by landing on top of them.

And they had killed one. Not two days ago, they had left a dead dragon on a burning, nameless hilltop for someone else to find. In the stories, someone would find and name the hill in their honor, somehow inferring all that had happened there. Perhaps a witness would scramble from the burning woodlands to tell the epic tale.

Eira flipped the crystal over in her hand. She had been worried about skeletons? They were invincible together. After a dragon, she could not imagine anything much worse coming after them. Well, there was Harkon himself. Eira narrowed her eyes at the dragon skull. Had Serana’s mother killed this beast herself? Serana had always said she was the more powerful mage between them. And she had run for her life when Harkon had wanted her head. Was that because of the court’s loyalty to him? Perhaps Serana’s mother was more powerful but Harkon had more minions.

_We should be so lucky._

With a sigh, Eira set the gem back on the table and gave herself a few good mental kicks for being such an indulgent little shit. She had been thinking about retirement before the war was even over. It really had not even begun. There were no clues here, no note saying she had gone off to the neighbor’s and hidden the Elder Scroll under the doormat.

Still, she could not help but wonder. Maybe they would both get out of this alive. Serana was an absolute terror on the battlefield and Eira was not completely helpless herself. So long as she did not get hungry in the middle of the night, maybe they would both make it out of here alive. That turnip farm was starting to look pretty appealing.

Eira turned to find herself very much alone in the room. Afraid she had lost her pet vampire, she quickly scoured the room’s lower level, peering behind chairs and under tables to see if a trap door had swallowed her up. She finally found her on the room’s second level, hidden behind a stone pillar and a table full of alchemy supplies.

In front of her was a large, silver bowl, the contents of which looked important if not entirely obvious. Eira peered over her shoulder, watching as she dumped what looked like a lot of gray dust into the mixture. Without looking back, Serana drew her knife and slashed the palm of her hand in a motion so fluid Eira actually winced as the blood began to spill. She held her hand over the bowl, little drops of red darkening the dust she had just poured in, and waited. Eira rolled her eyes. Why did these rituals always require blood? Was it a rule somewhere or did it just make things that much more fun for those involved?

As the blood continued to drip, Eira could swear she felt the air becoming electrified. Serana let one last drop fall before snatching her hand away and stepping back from the bowl. Eira watched as purple sparks shot from the mixture and bolts of lightning arced around the room. Soon the bowl was glowing so brightly room was filled with light. No, Eira realized, not the bowl but the glyphs on the floor, too. She stepped up to the railing and watched as the symbols began to light up, burning brighter and brighter until each was completely white.

The floor exploded before them. Pieces of the spiral detached themselves, spinning in the air and revealing an enormous violet light beneath the stones. Serana watched in awe beside her as the pieces spun toward the balcony to form a staircase, each stone smaller than the last so that it looked for all the world like a portal to hell itself. Eira stared at the light, watching it follow the path of the stairs down toward a pitch-black core that seemed to swallow all around it. The more she stared at it, the more it pulled at her, and she could swear she heard the moaning of a thousand different voices coming from those unseen depths.

“I don’t believe it,” Serana whispered. “It’s a portal. A portal to the Soul Cairn.”

Eira forced herself away from the railing. “The what?” she asked, fully aware she sounded like an idiot.

Serana did not seem to notice. “The place where souls go after they’ve been trapped by magic. The place where necromancy gets its power. Any soul you bring back to animate a body, any really powerful undead creature you summon, they all come from the Soul Cairn.” She did not move as she explained, the blood for her wound now pooling by her feet. “It’s the source of all magical enchantments in the world. That’s how it works: you give the Soul Cairn a soul gem, and it gives you power. The more valuable the soul, the more power they will grant in exchange.”

“So why would anyone go there?”

“Well it’s one hell of a good hiding place for an Elder Scroll,” Serana said with a laugh. “Almost no one has ever been to the Soul Cairn. Even fewer have ever come back.”

Eira closed her eyes. Of course her mother had gone there. If she was anything like her daughter, she probably had all sorts of people telling her to go to hell and, just like her daughter, she would probably have taken it as a challenge. Who could pass up a chance like that? And when was her daughter going to heal that damn cut?

“You’re bleeding,” Eira said subtly.

Serana ignored her. “The whole plane is ruled by the Ideal Masters. If my mother went there, it’s possible she tried to make a deal with them for protection. No, no she isn’t that foolish. She would have tried to do this without their intervention. They could have trapped her there. This could be bad. The Ideal Masters are not the kind of creatures you mess around with. No one has ever seen them and lived to tell about it. Any necromancer who has ever had the chance to meet them has always ended up dead. Or wishing they were dead.”

Seeing Serana was fully-engaged in her own lecture, Eira sidled toward her quietly and slipped one hand into hers to start healing that cut. Serana jumped away with a little gasp as soon as she did and Eira gave her a cheeky smile, holding up one hand now stained red with her blood.

Serana breathed a little laugh and examined her hand awkwardly. “Thanks. Didn’t even think about that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Eira quipped. “You figure out where the magic hole in the floor leads, I’ll keep you from falling over dead.”

“A noble calling,” Serana said quietly, still working her palm with her other hand. “I am sorry I don’t make it easier.”

“At least you remember to eat.”

That got her to at least chuckle again. When she did not reply, Eira fell silent, content to wait on whatever thoughts had disturbed Serana’s mind. She was not exactly eager to plunge headfirst into the otherworldly mess that waited for them on the other side of that portal. It was tempting to just stay here. Perhaps her mother was not trapped on the far side, she had simply forgotten to prop the door behind her. Opening the passage might be enough for her to escape on her own. It was not hard to imagine an older, angrier Serana striding out of that void, purple fire streaming from her fingertips and demanding to know Eira’s intentions with her daughter.

“You don’t need to come with me, you know,” Serana said, still staring at her palm. “I don’t know what we’re going to find down there but I’m fairly confident it won’t be friendly.”

Eira smiled and cocked her head. “We’ve already had this conversation, haven’t we? I’m going with you. Whatever’s down there, you won’t face it alone.”

“That’s kind of you but I’m being serious. Eira, this is not a place for heroism.”

“You really think I’m going to let you go down there alone, with no one there to drag you back out when you get in trouble?”

“A girl can dream,” Serana said with a thin smile. Her eyes rose to meet Eira’s. “You really are set on this, aren’t you?”

Eira had a dozen witty remarks at hand but none of them seemed to fit the mood, so she just smiled back and shrugged. “Like I said, you’re not getting rid of me.”

“Not until you’re dead,” Serana finished.

“Not until –“ Eira stopped, suddenly realizing the significance of what she had just said. She looked back toward the portal. “So I need to be dead to get through that.”

Serana nodded but said nothing.

“You’re not nearly as happy about this as I thought you’d be.”

“Oh, I’m just disappointed,” she said quickly. “I had a whole day planned around killing you and now I’ve just got to make do with this.”

Eira was unsure if she should laugh or ask about the kind of party Serana had planned for her funeral. It would have been a more enjoyable conversation than the one they needed to have and Eira had never been one to pass up a good escape when it was offered.

Serana continued before she could speak. “The living can’t pass through to the Soul Cairn. The only reason my mother could is because she was not technically alive.” She gave her a meaningful look. “And neither am I.”

There it was. Eira closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Her eyes fell to the floor in the vain hope that either her boots or the stones below would spell out the answer for her. They did nothing of the sort. In truth, she was not sure they needed to. The decision felt premade. It was not a difficult one, when she really thought about it, just one she had not expected.

“Please, Eira, please understand that I would never force this on anyone – least of all on you,” Serana said, coming closer and reaching out for Eira’s hand but pulling away even before she could take it. “Please. Stay here. I can handle myself, I promise. I don’t want to – I can’t make you do this. You know that. You know what I went through for this.”

Eira smiled weakly. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“Listen to me. This isn’t something to take lightly. This isn’t something you should do just to protect me. There’s no going back. You’ll be like me, and that will never go away.”

“I can think of worse fates,” Eira said easily.

Serana’s look had turned pleading. “You’re not hearing me. Eira –“

“I am, Serana. I am. And I’ve made up my mind. If you’re going down there, that means I’m going with you. No matter what.” Eira rubbed the side of her neck nervously as she spoke. “But, um, this is my first time, so be gentle, would you?”

She let out a sharp laugh that sounded more frustrated than joyous. “Actually, there’s more to it than just a pain in the neck and having your teeth grow out.”

Now she looked uncomfortable. Eira suddenly felt her mouth go dry. She knew what Serana had gone through. She knew and it terrified her beyond anything she could imagine. There had been no doubt in her mind that, were she in Serana’s place that day, she would not have survived.

Her own words surprised her. “Whatever it takes.”

Serana gave her a sweet smile. “It’s not like that. If it were, I would sooner die than let you suffer through it. It’s just –” She shuffled awkwardly as she searched for the right words. “Well, it’s intimate. For us. And I’m told it’s the same for the one being turned.”

Eira nodded slowly, looking anywhere but at the beautiful woman in front of her. A small part of her wanted to ask how something like this could possibly be intimate. The rest of her knew better. If Serana said it was intimate, she needed to accept that.

And that was for the best, right? If it was with Serana, then at least it was happening with someone she trusted. Someone she cared about. A friend.

“I just thought you should know,” Serana said, still rambling uncomfortably and wringing her hands. “Because of… well…”

She trailed off again, waiting for Eira to finish it for her. There was no need. Eira was still in love with a dead woman and both of them knew it.

Eira stared at the portal. She found herself wondering what her wife would have said if she were here right now. It had actually happened, once, during their first months together. After Valenwood, after Natalie had marched into her tent and communicated first physically and then verbally that she had been transferred permanently to her division, there had been another woman. She had been making passes at Eira ever since she had arrived, having – as Natalie put it – a certain fondness for average-looking women with uniforms that exaggerated their importance. She had actually been rather attractive and Eira had considered several times taking her out on a long walk alone. After all, Natalie was half a world away.

Of course, the moment Natalie found out, she found herself regretting ever letting the two meet. If memory served, she had described the act as a public service. If the poor girl had such bad taste, after all, the least Eira could do was show her a good time before a rather fetching mule came along and stole her chance away.

She realized that she was smiling and looked up to find Serana still staring at her, her eyes nervous but a smile on her lips. So that’s what this was all about. She was not nervous about making Eira into a vampire. Considering how proud she was of her own immortality, Eira had not expected her to be, either. This was about Eira and Natalie. It was about Eira still being in love with a dead woman and Serana not wanting to force her into anything that would make her uncomfortable.

“I told you I dreamt about her every night,” Eira said quietly. “After she died. I watched it happen over and over every time I closed my eyes. I forgot everything else about her. That’s all she was to me: just the dream. That’s why I went to Dimhollow. After so long searching for him, I gave up hope. I didn’t go down there because I had lost my friends, I went down there to die.”

Serana gave her a pitying look. It was not what Eira was after, really, though she did appreciate it. In the grand scheme of things, her attempt at suicide-by-draugr was not much more than a footnote in her story. She had been through worse, had tried to do worse to herself, and she had survived it all, and that was the point. That was what she was after.

“Last night I dreamt about her again. I thought it was going to be the nightmare but it wasn’t. We were in Valenwood. I don’t remember what we were supposed to be doing but we had stolen away together. We found this little clearing, or what passed for one in the wood. We ended up spending most of the day there. It was beautiful. One of the few times we weren’t trying to kill each other, actually. It was the first time I realized I was in love with her. Maybe the first time she realized it, too.”

It was one of the many memories she had lost over the years. Seeing it again had nearly brought her to tears, though thankfully she had composed herself before Serana had noticed. Their journey so far had largely consisted of Serana putting Eira’s broken pieces back together. It would not do to continue shattering in front of her every morning.

“I can’t tell you how much that meant to me, seeing her smile again. I would have given anything to see that just one more time. You know that, don’t you?”

Serana nodded mutely. It was strange to think they had met only weeks before. They had been through so much together in such a short time. Eira tried to imagine what she was thinking right now. Was she just as uncomfortable turning Eira? She supposed it did not matter. If Serana was willing to turn her, she was willing to be turned. Serana had given her a reason to keep going. She had showed her that it was possible to come back.

She took the last few steps toward Serana, looking her over one last time. “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that. And no one else could have done that for me. No one else would have walked straight into that camp and right up to where that monster was hiding. I wouldn’t be here without you. I never would have gotten her back without you. And even if I can never truly make it up to you, if this is what it takes to keep you safe, I’ll try to think of it as a good start.”

Eira took a deep breath and tried to smile. “So let’s get this over with before I start thinking straight.”

Serana laughed, nervously pushing a bit of her hair back over her ear. “I wouldn’t worry about that. If it hasn’t happened yet, it probably won’t start now.”

She made a good argument. Eira chuckled quietly and tried not to fidget too much. She was supposed to be doing the brave thing here. The right thing, anyway. Calling it brave implied she was afraid of Serana. She was not afraid – not very afraid, anyway. Not anymore. This was just another time where she needed to close her eyes and trust her. After all they had been through, she should have been grateful. She knew Serana would not hurt her. If it was going to be this intimate, it should be with someone like her.

Serana’s eyes flicked to hers one last time. She looked nervous. Eira suddenly had thoughts of Serana biting and somehow missing her throat or whatever it was she was aiming for. To come all this way only to be a meal for the hungry vampire seemed like such a waste. Was that possible, for Serana to miss? If it was, she was going to come back and haunt her for it.

The soft touch of a hand on her hip abruptly scattered her thoughts. She tried not to move, not to slide closer, easing herself further into Serana’s grasp. Pulling away would have been even worse, though. But her hand was pretty low for this being so serious. She should have been grabbing higher. That would have been less distracting. More professional. Not that she did not like it – _stop. Stop thinking about where her hand is and think about something else. Anything else._

Her other hand moved to Eira’s shoulder, fingers gliding along her neck and tangling in her hair. This was ridiculous. She felt her heart hammering as Serana pulled her closer, tilting her head and bringing her lips toward Eira’s bare neck. Having two really sharp teeth punch holes in your neck was not supposed to be this intimate. It wasn’t intimate. At all. This was just because Serana had insisted on _saying_ it was. The way Serana was pushing her hair back over her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear and letting her fingers linger on her back, that was just for show. She would look up in a moment and laugh and Eira would try to explain that she was just nervous and that none of this was what it looked like.

Warm breath on her neck. Eira started but Serana held her still. Her hand was still in her hair, still pulling it to the side. Gods, this was taking a long time. That was normal, though. Probably. This was intimate. And they were friends. Good friends. Close but still just friends who happened to care about each other and needed to do something very unusual together. Eira was never a very good liar. Thoughts of Serana by the fire, of her lying in Eira’s lap – _she was so light_ – and of her head coming to rest on her shoulder – _stop it! Gods, this is taking forever._

Serana hovered, inches from her neck, and did not move. Breath after agonizing, miserable breath sent chills down Eira’s spine as she refused to just get on with it. Let this be over and let them go back to bickering. That was the way of things. They were just – well, them.

Her chin began to warm as Serana’s breath moved up the length of her neck. Eira watched – _stop it, stop it_ – as Serana moved just a little closer, her hair brushing Eira’s chin – _she was so small_ – as her breath danced along her jaw. Eira felt herself bending toward her. The time between her breaths stretched to hours. Her lips were close enough to taste.

Every muscle in her body begged to kiss her. Serana was gorgeous, terrifying, sweet, and completely insane. She was perfect.

Eira felt herself start to fall forward. She wanted this. Didn’t she? Did Serana? Of course she did, just look at what she was doing.

Still she could not move, not all the way. Every time she fell just a little closer, moved her lips just enough to let Serana in, every time she wished that she would bite her on the lip instead of on the neck, she found herself unable to ask for it.

She waited too long. Serana’s breath caught, and in an instant, it became all her fault. All the hesitation, the fear, her own inability to move those last few inches and kiss the woman she was now so crazy about, all of it became Serana’s fault.

Eira let out a shuddering breath with her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Serana lied, tilting her head and stealing her breath away. Instead of letting Eira taste it, she let it rush, warm and inviting down the length of her neck. “Just not sure how to do this.”

“I thought you were the expert here.” _Gods, why was she breathing so hard?_

“I am. You just need to trust me,” Serana whispered, still laughing and breathing too much and not kissing her nearly enough. Eira watched as Serana’s eyes fixed on the floor, though they were standing so close Eira should have made a joke about staring at her chest.

“I do trust you,” Eira murmured. It seemed the right thing. Somehow in her head, that was the only thing she needed to say in order to convince Serana to stop talking and come back to her. Another chance. That was all she needed. Just one more chance to kiss her.

“I know,” she said, her eyes coming back to meet Eira’s. “I know you do.”

That was the moment. Eira knew it was. She was supposed to kiss her. This was when she brought her hand up, took Serana in her arms and kissed her until she forgot to breathe. They would probably never get another chance. She should just do it. Kiss her. Take her by the hand and show her all the kindness she deserved. Make all the scars go away. It would have been so easy. She was head-over-heels for her and it was –

It was impossible. She was still in love with someone else. They were gone and she was here and it did not make a difference. She was still in love with her. What was she supposed to do? Just forget?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I know you still care about her and I don’t – I would never want you to –” Serana stammered in a frustrated whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Eira whispered, at last finding the courage to bring one hand up to Serana’s. “I just… It’s been a long time. I don’t really know how to do this anymore. I just need to remember. That’s all.”

Serana smiled, giving Eira’s hand a little squeeze. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Eira grinned and wondered what she had done to deserve someone so inhumanly patient. And with such an awful sense of humor.

“Now, if you’ll just hold still this time and stop distracting me, we can get on with this.” Serana shuffled and adjusted Eira’s hair one more time, fingering the strands for a moment before looking back to Eira. “You know I’m not going anywhere. Right?”

“I know. Neither am I.”

Serana’s hand again found her waist, her fingers moving up her neck and tilting her head to the side. This time, there was no warm breath on her neck, no slow movement of bodies that lent far too much to Eira’s imagination. This time, Serana did not wait.

Agony.

White-hot lances of pain shot through her neck where Serana’s fangs bit down. She tried to scream, her mouth contorting in a rictus of pain but completely unable to make a sound. Her back strained as she tried to struggle but Serana’s grip was impossibly strong. Eira could do little more than thrash in helpless silence. She felt the pain move from her neck to her heart, turning it to a ball of needles that threatened to burst from her chest. Every vein, every nerve in her body, was soon furiously alight. One of her hands got free and she felt herself clawing feverishly at Serana’s arm. It was hopeless, of course. Serana did not even seem to notice, and Eira’s grip soon turned pleading as the pain began to overwhelm her.

Just as suddenly as it had come, the pain vanished, and in its place came ecstasy. Eira felt her knees buckle as the first wave crashed over her and swept her to the floor. Serana was the only thing that kept her from losing her feet. Her grip on Serana’s arm tightened, the fabric of her shirt clenched in her fist as she tried desperately to stay standing. She needed this. She could no sooner live without it than she could without air. Just one more second of it, just one more. Just one more.

Her vision swam. Eira felt her head loll to the side, cold stone pressing against her hand. Her legs felt cold and her boot pinched at her ankle, as though she had fallen and twisted it on the way down. Something soft had caught her on the way down. Her head rested on something soft and comforting and her back was not pressed against the cold stone of the floor. There was something – someone – looming over her. Someone with glowing eyes and dark hair and a face that was in terrible need of a good kiss.

“Welcome back,” Serana whispered.

Eira blinked lazily, staring up at the woman’s face. She felt her mouth begin to open but had the good sense to snap it closed before she said something profoundly stupid. It probably would have been something about how comfortable she was in her lap. Nothing good would have come from making comments like that.

She let her eyes focus before making a fool of herself. Everything felt different, and everything looked so new. She found herself picking out and counting the individual strands of hair that had snuck down to cover Serana’s forehead. A moment later her gaze wandered to her eyes, picking out the patterns she had never seen before. It gave her time to collect herself, but more than that, it gave her time to marvel at what manner of gift she had just been given. Everything was so clear, now. Serana’s breathing, once so quiet, was now so clear, and the quickness of it reminded Eira what they had just gone through together.

She had to say something. She could not just sit here, her head in Serana’s lap, staring up at her for the rest of the day. Even if she wanted to.

“We should do that again sometime.”

Serana laughed. “Sorry, one time only.”

Eira tried to frown for dramatic effect but could not restrain the smile. “That’s just not fair.”

“Well, it just means that we’ll need to try something different next time.”

That idea did have a certain appeal to it. Eira let her head roll around a moment longer, indulging in Serana’s care for as long as she could before forcing herself to sit up. As the world settled in around her, everything she had felt in Serana’s arms came flooding back, and it was proved exceedingly difficult not to lie back down and say things she would no doubt regret when the moment faded. Already she was beginning to feel guilty over it. Moments after deciding to keep the memories of Natalie sacred, she had fallen into Serana’s arms, forgotten her name, and was ready to beg and plead for just one more second of uninterrupted bliss.

She pushed herself to her feet, rolling onto her knees and using her arms as leverage when her legs proved too wobbly to do the job themselves. Serana stood behind her, probably picking out her favorite lamb jokes as Eira’s body remembered how to move. That was the last thing she needed right now.

“How are you feeling?” She moved up beside Eira as she spoke, hands hovering awkwardly near Eira’s arms as she tried to decide just how much help the newborn vampire needed.

Eira, as the very weak woman she was, stood still. She let Serana make the decision for her and found herself disappointed when her hands fell away. “I think I’m alright. I just need to get used to being dead.”

“You’ll love it,” Serana promised in a lilting voice. “People threatening to kill you is much more fun when you’re already dead. Plus you can sleep for thousands of years and never waste a day.”

“You should put that on a sign. People would be lining up on your doorstep to be turned.”

“And I suppose that’s the only reason they’d be waiting for a turn?”

Her face was perfectly innocent as she asked the question, leaving Eira to sigh and look toward the portal. She was not about to dignify that with an answer. Not the one Serana wanted, anyway. “There’s also the scenic getaways, I suppose.”

With her hearing now suddenly more acute, Eira could clearly hear a chorus of agonized moaning coming from the void in the floor. This gaping hole in reality, this wound in the world, was the reason she had allowed Serana to turn her. At least, that was how she had thought of it before. Now it seemed more like the price she had to pay for being turned.

“Take your time,” Serana said from beside her. “She’ll still be down there in five minutes.”

That was true, or true enough for Eira to believe it, but she felt ready enough as she was. Actually, she felt better than she had in years, maybe in her entire life. “I’m not leaving your mother in hell because I need to catch my breath,” she said, moving toward the stairs. “I can’t imagine we’ll find paradise on the other side.”

“Probably not,” Serana admitted as she followed. “But she can handle herself. We won’t do her any good if we get killed on the way in because you tripped over a rock.”

The yawning abyss waited just below her feet. Eira felt her hand come to rest on Vengeance. Its pommel rolled under her fingers, promising her safety in an unfamiliar land. She felt her heart fluttering – was it supposed to do that? She was dead, after all – as she tried to force herself to take the first step. Serana remained beside her, pleased with her latest quip and ready, as she always was, to take on the world by herself. She could not have asked for more.

“Serana, about what happened –“

“You don’t need to say anything. This isn't something I want to push on you. You mean too much to me for that. I should have waited and I'm sorry.” She said it quietly but easily, sincerely and without shame. “And I will wait. However long it takes. I don’t want to lose you, Eira. Not for anything.”

EIra hardly knew how to answer. If only Serana had ended with a degrading remark about the stupidity of mortals. But she was being honest, and so she deserved the same from Eira. “You won’t lose me. I promise.”

Serana smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Without another word, she brushed her way past Eira and descended the stairs into the Soul Cairn.


	19. Lost Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana enter the Soul Cairn

The sensation Serana felt upon entering the Soul Cairn was difficult to describe. There was no pain, just a profound sense of wrongness. Passing through the portal gave the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that she was being broken down piece by piece before being reassembled somewhere else, and with every piece that went to the Soul Cairn she felt more and more out of place. It was as though the Soul Cairn did not want them here.

And, as she emerged fully into the Soul Cairn, Serana realized she did not want to be here either. To call it another world felt too weak. It left the impression that this bizarre and backwards place was anything like the normal and rational world they had just left. No, this was not another world, but another sort of world, another plane of existence that looked, felt, and probably acted nothing like its sensible cousins.

Serana took a few, slow steps down the stairs. Well, at least things still fell toward the ground in this world. Or so she thought. Her eyes had hardly lifted beyond her boots before even that simple yet comforting thought was proven wrong. All across the battered, rock-strewn wasteland, great towers rose to spew purple light toward the sky, and around those columns of light circled bits of rubble determined to discomfit any gravity-loving traveler.

Worse than the inconstancy of gravity was the strangeness of the light. Serana could not find any source for it. There was light from the pillars and from the constant, chaotic arcing of lightning far above, and even boiling up in steaming clouds from cracks in the plain itself, but even above all this was a light Serana could not place. It came from everywhere and nowhere, washing everything in a strange, purple monochrome that made everything feel muted and unreal. Shadows cast by the mad lightning far above danced furiously across the ground and gave the wasteland its final touches of unreality.

“You mother isn’t making a great first impression.”

Eira came down the stairs behind her, one hand still resting calmly on Vengeance. Apparently the transformation from human to vampire had made her even more of a smartass than before. She was not entirely sure if that was good or bad, but in a place like this, Serana clung to anything that made the world feel normal, and right now, Eira’s irreverence was as comforting as dry land after a storm.

Of course, actually telling her like that would be completely inappropriate, so she said something else. “When we see her, I’ll be sure to let her know you were inconvenienced by her choice of locale. I haven’t watched her skin someone alive in ages.”

“You’re such a wholesome family.” Eira sighed, stopping beside Serana to join her in surveying the landscape. The portal had appeared high enough above the ground to provide them with a decent view of their surroundings. Personally, Serana could have done without the extra height. She wanted to see as little of this place as possible.

Serana peered around the landscape, eyeing the broken towers in the distance as though hoping to see a large, glowing arrow that pointed the way to her mother. “So, where do you want to start? There’s nothing over there, or over there, there’s some mountains over there – oh, look, more nothing.”

Eira chuckled as Serana dramatically turned and pointed out the various and uninteresting landmarks around them. It seemed Eira had been a poor influence on her. This was something she should probably have been taking seriously. After all, they were trying to save the world, and for all they knew some great, undead predator was about to swoop down and gobble them both up for supper.

Eira seemed unconcerned. She pointed to a large, decrepit fortress sitting on a distant rise in the land. “Probably the big one. That’s where I would go if I was hiding an Elder Scroll in hell.”

“That’s because you’re dramatic.”

“No, ripping a hole in the world and travelling to a dimension filled with lost souls just to hide from your father was dramatic. Your mother is far beyond my mortal powers.”

Serana raised an eyebrow. “Mortal powers?”

Eira flashed a grin. “Newly-immortal, I guess. Still getting used to it.”

That was fair. Serana turned back toward the fortress, idly passing her fingers through her hair and trying – unsuccessfully – to avoid chewing on her lip. “Do you think she’s still there?”

“Gods, I hope not,” Eira laughed. “Something tells me this place isn’t fond of visitors.”

“She can handle herself.”

“I don’t doubt it, but who would want to? Just look at this place.”

Serana was looking and that was the problem. She found herself looking beyond the fortress and off toward the horizon in an attempt to escape the immediate horrors of the word. Instead, she found herself staring at something new and terrifying. Far in the distance, something that towered even over the mountains caught her eye. It moved on four impossibly-thin legs, like a ship being held up by its oars. It moved ponderously, each stride of those long spindles probably taking several minutes and no doubt carrying it several miles. She could see its eyes even from so great a distance, backlit as they were by blue flames that poured from inside its skull.

“Power,” she heard herself whispering. She caught Eira giving her a sidelong look a moment later and realized how that must have sounded. “That’s why someone would want to survive down here. The dead here are strong – stronger than anything you would find in our world. Raising the dead or reanimating a body, the things you’ve seen from every necromancer with a shred of talent, those are nothing compared to what you would find here. Pulling something over from this side and bringing it into our world; well, stories like that are how you end an age.”

EIra was now looking over the landscape with a much sharper eye. “So, what can we expect?”

After a talk like that, Serana wished she had a better answer, but there was no use mincing words. “I don’t know. Don’t give me that look. I know what would happen if they got loose in Tamriel, but here they might be as weak as Mudcrabs. They might not be able to stand up straight without help. Or they might be waiting to crush us like ants. I have no idea.”

“Lovely.”

“You’re the one who asked,” Serana said irritably.

“I did, didn’t I?” Eira sighed and adjusted the arrows in her quiver. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to take you somewhere nice.”

It was a lie but it was one Serana could appreciate. She liked the Eira finding them some secluded piece of woodland full of frolicking rabbits and blooming flowers. Knowing them, the flowers would turn out to be poisonous and the rabbits thirsty for blood.

Eira took the first steps down to the violet-hued dirt. Serana followed behind, pointedly averting her gaze from the giant on the horizon. As she reached the path, she took one last look at the sky. Behind the flash of lightning was the same, yawning abyss they had seen in Castle Volkihar, only this one took up the entire sky. It was only when Serana looked directly at it that she could hear the sound. Just like the purple light that came from nowhere, the Soul Cairn had a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and proved as inescapable as the light. The constant, agonized moans of a million lost souls seemed to rise up from the ground around her. It lifted her from the ground and hoisted her toward the nothingness above. She could see the clouds, thin wisps of gray with tails of brilliant color, swirling and fading as the darkness consumed them. It was growing. She could see it far above, hungering, expanding, threatening to consume everything in this world and the next.

The clap of Eira’s hand on her shoulder brought her feet back to the ground. She jumped, steadying herself as Eira gave her a very concerned look. “See, Eira? Aren’t you glad I brought you along?”

“Very,” Eira said quietly. Serana was growing soft. The worry in her voice was almost touching.

With an uncomfortable look at their surroundings, Eira started off again. Only now, with their feet on the path and their every step taking them deeper into the Soul Cairn, did Serana realize they had not spoken of the world’s most disturbing aspect. She had been ignoring it since they first passed through the portal and Eira had yet to say anything, but she could tell it was on both of their minds.

It was Eira who brought it up. “Who are they?”

Serana looked at one of them, sitting dejectedly beside the path and staring at the dirt in silence. The man – or what was left of him – did not look up as they passed. “Souls,” she said quietly. “The souls of men and women trapped in our world and traded to this one. This is where they go once the deal is made.”

There were hundreds of them just around the path and hundreds more were visible in the nearby hills. The Soul Cairn deserved its name. Eira was staring at a young woman slumped against a nearby rock. She was clawing feebly at the stone with one hand, the other clutching tightly to her side. Serana could hear her weeping.

“But not everyone,” she said quietly, her voice taking on the barest twinge of panic. “This isn’t where we go at the end, right? Only if she – if someone – was Soul Trapped.”

Serana’s voice softened. “Natalie isn’t here, Eira.” She hesitated, seeing Eira still staring at the young woman. “And if she is, I promise you, we will bring her back. I won’t leave her here.”

Eira tore her gaze away from the woman, leaving her to her madness. “Can’t save everyone, can we?” she murmured.

“No. But we can still save the living. There will be a lot more people down here if we don’t find that scroll.”

After a moment, Eira nodded. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

Serana thought about asking her to never mention it again, but the moment was not exactly ripe for humor. She had meant what she said: she did not believe Natalie was here but, if her soul had found no peace in the afterlife and instead had been trapped here for eternity, she would do everything in her power to see her set free. Not that she would have much of a choice, Eira being who she was. It was not hard to image Eira pleading on her knees before the Ideal Masters, trading her own soul for Natalie’s. It was even easier to imagine how that would end. Serana would get involved because she could not stand to see Eira lose herself like that and soon all three of them would be trapped down here, separated by thin but unbreakable barriers so that even in death Eira could never quite reach the woman she loved.

Nor Serana the woman she loved.

_Not the best time for that, is it?_

She suspected there would never be a better one, but she was an optimist at heart. And Eira deserved time. And space. And a great deal of patience.

It did make for a great cautionary tale. The three of them, all trapped in hell, torn apart and doomed from the start by blinding light of love. Serana wondered if there would be songs about them.

Eira, oblivious to Serana’s imaginings, was watching another lost soul sprinting down the path. She looked sick and it did not take long for Serana to figure out why. The woman was shrieking as she ran, and even if Serana could not quite make out the words, she could plainly make out the panic. Worse, whatever had trapped her soul had not been kind to her body, and her spirit still bore the scars. Her chest and stomach had been torn apart so badly that she no longer even looked human. Serana had seen that kind of violence at the dinner table but those poor sods had already been dead.

Neither of them moved for their weapons. From what Serana had read of the place, this was not the sort of trick the Ideal Masters liked to play. The fact that it would have worked perfectly was beside the point.

“She can’t hurt us,” Serana said anyway, as though putting it into words would somehow make it true.

Eira did not take her eyes off the woman. Serana watched, noticing for the first time that she was not just running blindly along the path. Every time she passed a rock, no matter how large or small, she would look behind it. She searched every shadow, every hiding place in her way, never slowing in her flight. It was a difficult thing to watch.

It became more difficult when Serana finally understood her words. “WHERE IS MY SON?!”

She failed to hide her wince. The woman searched another rock before finally catching sight of Eira. She ran even faster, practically flying, arms in front of her as she went crashing into her. “HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? HAVE YOU SEEN MY BOY?!”

Only she did not crash into Eira, instead sailing through her. Eira did not seem to notice and drew back, stumbling as though it had all been very real. The dead woman stopped behind her, spinning around in shock. She held up her glowing hands and stared at them for a long moment. Serana could do nothing but watch as Eira turned slowly, her face profoundly sick.

She heard the woman start mumbling. “Eren… Eren, where are you? I have to find him! EREN!”

Without another look, she was off, sprinting down the path and off into the distance. Eira looked as shaken as Serana had ever seen her. It was tempting to tell her to go back. Not that she would, having decided at birth to play the part of stubborn and courageous fool, but Serana very strongly wanted to say something. She deserved a dignified way out. She had come this far, given up her life first figuratively and then quite literally in order to help Serana. As far as she was concerned, that gave Eira every right to throw down her sword, scream at the top of her lungs, and bolt for the portal. Any sensible person would.

Eira spoke first. “We can still save the living, huh?”

Serana watched as the woman vanished over a distant hill. “Yeah. Something like that.”

There were mercifully few souls in such a maddened state. Most had probably been here too long for that kind of insanity. Instead, they settled down by the road or on a pleasant hilltop, determined to watch the unnatural world go by. Most were barely human any longer. A few spoke, their words echoing of lives that had long since been forgotten, of injustices that the world above had never heard of and would never have the decency to care about. Serana would have loved to find the more lucid among them and ask them for their stories. As macabre as the idea was, this was a chance for her to learn what had really happened from those who had actually been there.

Those more lucid souls proved elusive, and Serana lacked the stomach to go off the path and search for them. That was how these stories began, after all, with a detour off the beaten path and a winding journey that ended invariably in a witch’s cauldron. Judging by the piles of bones strewn about the ground, there were witches aplenty skulking in the shadows. They passed one of the piles near the road and Serana gave it a long look. What creatures had died here and left bones behind? Were travelers to the Soul Cairn so common? Or were these just mortal remains from the souls that had been sent here? Their real bones would still be with their bodies, so why would these show up here? Were the Ideal Masters so sadistic as to remind their prisoners of what they had left behind? And, more disturbingly, of how very many people had been imprisoned in this nightmare?

The bones stirred.

Out of the heap rose what Serana could only describe as a shade, its eyes glowing red and its body a mass of black smoke and tattered cloth. She could clearly make out the sword in its hand and did not need to guess at what it was for. She stepped back toward Eira, put one hand in front of her, and burned the monster to ash.

Nothing happened.

Serana stared at her hand and willed fire to spring from her fingers. There was nothing. She tried again and again and again. Her magic was gone. She was helpless. Again.

The shade came in swinging. The twang of a bowstring marked Eira’s entry into the fight. Serana watched in satisfaction as the arrow struck the monster in the head and –

And passed right through it. Black smoke curled around the hole in the monster’s head, swirling lazily until there was nothing left. Serana threw herself to the side, scattering the bones and landing painfully on her shoulder as the sword passed through where she had been standing a moment before. She scrambled to her feet, bones rattling as she pushed herself up. The shade’s eyes turned on Eira. She had not moved. Why had she not moved?

The shade swung again. Eira flipped her bow to the ground and drew Vengeance with the barest snap of her wrists. The sword should have cleaved Eira in two but Eira was too quick. A single, languid stride took her out of its path, the weapon seeming to flow around her. Up snapped Vengeance, no longer trailing black smoke but instead appearing as shimmering, silver light.

This time, the shade could not escape. Its body parted and steamed black smoke just as it had before, only this time Serana could see the flames. It came apart like a log in the fire, fading to smoldering ash that glowed red against the dirt. From her place in the pile of bones, Serana could see its eyes smolder and fade, its sword vanishing as it returned to nothingness.

Serana found herself staring at Vengeance so long that she did not see Eira offer her hand. After what must have been several minutes, she finally noticed, allowing Eira to help her to her feet and trying not to stare too openly at the sword she did not recognize. Of course Eira noticed and held it out before her, turning it over slowly.

“Someone up there likes you,” Serana said quietly.

Eira shook her head. “Not funny.”

Indeed it was not. Serana found herself afraid even to touch the too-bright blade. Just like the Soul Cairn, it seemed intent to make its own light and defy the rest of the world to quiet it. It was a fitting sword for someone like EIra.

“I suppose it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Serana asked.

“What does?”

“Sithis.” The name seemed to carry on the wind, intent on proving Serana’s point through dramatic effect. “He would have power here.”

The God of Death would surely not like anyone keeping souls form his grasp. That was what Serana thought, at any rate. Eira looked up sharply. Serana had to smile at that. “How did you know?”

“It’s not exactly subtle,” Serana said dryly. “You don’t need to tell me the whole story right now, but I would like to hear it one day. That is a very powerful artifact you hold in your hands. That is something the world will be talking about for a long time.”

Eira spared a glance for the glowing blade before looking back to Serana. “You’re not worried about it?”

“Should I be? Should I be afraid of you turning it on me to satisfy His whims?”

The thought made Eira’s lip curl. It brought out much the same reaction in Serana. Eira still had the decency to shake her head and look sick but Serana was already convinced.

“As long as you are the one holding that sword, Eira, I have no reason to fear it because I have no reason to fear you. I know you.” The last, that she knew Eira would never hurt her, seemed too soft even for her love-addled lips to speak. She did have some standards, after all. She could not be falling into Eira’s arms every five minutes. Particularly not here, of all places.

Eira was quiet, staring at the blade as though seeing something no one else could. Serana had noticed a strange script on the flat of the blade but it was in no language that she could recognize. She was about to ask Eira if she could read it when another shambling wreck came over the next rise, this one wielding a battleaxe.

Eira brought Vengeance up into a guard and went to meet the monster. It took but a moment and she returned to Serana once it was done.

“What happened?” Eira asked as she returned. “With your magic?”

Serana shivered before she could stop herself. “I don’t know,” she heard herself stammering. “I can’t – I can’t get it to work.”

She forced her hand out a few times, pleading the world to see reason and send up the smallest spark from her fingers. Nothing happened. Just like before. Just like with him.

Eira slipped on hand around Serana’s arm, her fingers curling just beneath her shoulder. The touch did wonders to bring Serana back from the brink. “Hey. It’s alright. We’re going to get through this, find your mother, and get out of here.”

Serana nodded. Right. She could do this. No problem.

“And then I’m going to have a few words with her about making us come to this miserable place,” Eira said as they started walking.

Serana coughed and did her best to turn it into a laugh. “Good. You do that and I will stand a safe distance behind you.”

Their walk to the fortress proved less eventful than Serana had expected. More shades attacked but never in large groups and almost always from one of the bone piles near the path. It made a certain kind of sense, when Serana thought about it. Most of the visitors to the Soul Cairn would be mages. With their magic nullified, they would make easy prey even for creatures like these. After watching Eira cut apart two more in quick succession, it got Serana thinking. When she saw the next one rising out of the earth, she told Eira to stand back. This prompted an unpleasant but not inaccurate quip about trying to impress her, to which Serana did not reply.

Her father’s dagger did not glow the way Vengeance did, but it proved more than enough to cut the offending monster to pieces. She gave it a twirl and hefted it in one hand. Eira was giving her a suitably-impressed look that put a smug grin on her face as she revealed to her young pupil the knowledge of the ancients.

“All enchantments come from the Soul Cairn, so that means a little of this world’s power lives in everything we enchant.”

Eira looked down at the blade. She did not mention that her father had given her a fine gift so long ago, nor did she need to. Serana had already thought of that herself, and she would make her own peace with it. She always had.

“Come on,” Eira said after a moment. “We shouldn’t keep your mother waiting.”

They need not have worried. The climb up the hill proved longer than Serana had expected, but what were hours when stacked against centuries? Her mother had been waiting here a very long time – longer than some of the souls they had passed on the way here. That thought gave little in the way of comfort. As they approached the top, Serana began to make out a glowing light between the pillars. The fortress, as they had been calling it, was not a fortress at all. On closer inspection, it looked much more like a church or a cathedral that was missing its roof. The façade was too ornate to be anything else.

That glowing light proved to be a magical barrier. As they got closer, Serana could feel mana – or the Soul Cairn’s equivalent – streaming off of it. The hair on her neck stood up and she found herself wanting to touch it, drawing it into her veins so that she could feel whole again. She felt naked with only her dagger to protect her.

On the far side of the barrier, something was moving. Someone was pacing back and forth between the columns, eyes on the horizon. Serana recognized the face immediately.

“Mother!”


	20. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana finds her mother in the Soul Cairn

“Mother!”

The figure whirled, eyes wide, and Serana got her first good look at its face. It really was her mother. After so many years, they were together again. She was overcome with the sudden urge to throw herself through the barrier and throw her arms around her. It had been too long since they had seen each other. The memories from her childhood, the ones she had put away so carefully after her father had gone mad, came flooding back. The two of them sitting together in the garden, talking about nothing and wiling away the hours, her mother’s hands on hers as she showed her how to properly harvest Dragon’s Tongue.

All the anger at being sealed away against her will sudden felt insignificant. It was all part of the plan. All she wanted now was to see her mother again. “Mother, are you alright?”

Her mother was still plainly recovering from the shock of seeing her daughter alive. She stared at Serana, mouth half-open as she tried to find the words. Serana had nearly reached the barrier by the time she finally spoke.

“Serana?”

Serana felt the child inside her smiling and laughing. “Yes, mother. It’s me. We’re –“

“Are you safe?”

“Yes, I –“

“What about your father? He knows, doesn’t he? He’s discovered your role in the prophecy.”

The joy at finally seeing her mother was momentarily eclipsed by the old resentment she had been so dutifully ignoring. Her mother had not changed at all, had she? No, of course she had. She was just afraid for her daughter’s safety and was acting the protective mother. That was all. Her paranoid, delusional persona, the one that had been brought to life by Harkon and his own horrible madness, was surely gone by now. She could still have one parent in her life, one that was at least halfway normal.

The child in Serana was not so easily banished. “He isn’t here, mother. He knows about me, and maybe about the bow, too, but –“

“Then I’ve failed. I’ve failed, and he will be coming for me. And for the scroll. Or did he send you here to finish it?”

Serana bristled at that. Would it kill her to just listen for once? “Father doesn’t know we’re here! We –“

“We?!” Her mother stopped pacing and suddenly focused her eyes on Serana. A moment later they were gone, shooting a murderous glare over Serana’s shoulder to where Eira was no doubt standing.

“She’s a friend,” Serana pleaded, stepping protectively between Eira and her mother.

“You brought a stranger here?”

“What? No, she –“

“You!” Her mother barked it as both a command and a curse. Serana turned to see EIra staring down the slope. Whether she was trying to give Serana privacy or simply avoid the wrath of her mother now no longer mattered.

Eira turned but kept Vengeance leveled down the slope. Her mother waited impatiently for Eira to take the hint and approach the barrier.

“I would know why a half-breed is travelling with my daughter. I would hate to think that you posed as her friend in order to kill me.”

Eira blinked and gave Serana a flat look but mercifully held her tongue. “I’m not here to hurt you,” she said calmly. “Serana is important to me. I’m here to keep her safe.”

Her mother scoffed. “Keeping her safe. Is that what you were doing in bringing her to this place?”

Eira wanted to say something stupid, she could see it in her eyes. Another owlish blink passed before Eira deigned to reply. “No, I came here because she was looking for you. She was worried about you.”

Serana could not decide if such a sweet lie deserved a rap on the forehead or a kiss on the cheek. Her mother thought it deserved neither. “Convenient, using my own daughter against me. What is it you hope to gain from all this? Are you one of Harkon’s minions?”

“Father isn’t here!” Serana snapped. “Have you been listening to me? He has no idea we’re even in the castle and Eira is the last person in the world who would be helping him.”

“Have you learned nothing, Serana? This half-breed –“

“Has done more for me than you ever have!” It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. She did not even worry if it was true because, for the last two thousand years, it surely was. Eira deserved better than this. “If not for her, I would still be trapped in Dimhollow, sealed away for my own protection! Was that the plan, mother? Lock me up, take me away from everything that I cared about, and sort the whole thing out on your own? You did a fine job of that.”

“How dare you!” Her mother’s voice was pure venom. “You have no idea what I sacrificed for this!”

“ME!” Serana screamed it as she saw red. “You sacrificed me! Every time! Every time you wanted power, it was me paying the price!”

Valerica – no, this was still her mother, had always been her mother – sputtered in rage. “That is –“

“Tell me I’m wrong! You never asked me if it was what I wanted, you just offered me and told me it was for the best! I was just part of the plan, something to trade for whatever you couldn’t get alone.”

“I was trying to protect you! Your father –“

Serana refused to be silenced here. “That’s all you cared about, wasn’t it? You never wanted to keep me from harm, you just wanted to keep Father away from me. You wanted to lock me up so he couldn’t get to me, not to keep me safe.”

“I had to do it! Serana, he would have killed you!”

“Then why didn’t he? After I woke up, where do you think I went? Home. I went home and he welcomed me. He didn’t try to kill me, didn’t try to take his precious fucking scroll from me, he left me alone. He let me be home again.” It was not exactly true, and putting it into words for the first time left Serana a little surprised that she was defending her father, but it took Valerica off guard.

“He was just –“

“You never asked me if I wanted to help you. You never asked me if I wanted to be locked up for my own safety. You just saw what Father was doing and you saw how you put one over on him. It wasn’t about saving the world or protecting me or keeping your family safe, it was about you being better than him. Don’t tell me I’m wrong, I know both of you too well for that. Go ahead. Tell me why you did it because just for once I’d like to hear it in your own voice.”

Valerica’s voice did not want to be found. Rather than seeing her daughter alive again, she looked as though she had just been told of her death. “Serana, I…”

Serana tried to calm herself as she let the rage in her heart expend itself. “You never asked me. Father was obsessed with the prophecy, of making himself a god among vampires, but what you did was worse. You used me against my father just so you could see him fail. That’s all that mattered to you. All you wanted was power – and if you couldn’t get it, then you had to make sure he couldn’t have it, either. He was mad, I know that, but he was my father. He was my family. You both were.”

Her mother was silent. Serana slowly recalled that they were not alone. Eira was standing somewhere behind them, forced to listen as Serana threw her tantrum about not being loved enough. She tried to compose herself. Eira had not lost control like this in her moment of stress.

“I want us to be a family again,” she admitted softly. “But I don’t know if we’ll ever have that again. Maybe we don’t deserve that kind of happiness.”

It was the small girl Serana had tried so hard to forget that had spoken in the end. Serana herself was old enough to know that nothing could save her family now. Her mother and father were both too ambitious to live together. Maybe if they both weren’t so damned good at getting what they wanted. If they had been mortal, they would not have been forced to worry things like this. But, of course, they were not mortal. They had cheated death in their own way. They were strong enough, and ruthless enough, to take what power they could grasp. Whatever Serana remembered, whatever mortal parents had brought her into this world and raised her as a daughter, they had been dead for a long time.

“I am sorry, Serana,” her mother said at last.

Serana looked up to see her mortal mother, scarred and violet-hued by the unnatural light of the Soul Cairn, staring at her from across the barrier. Her eyes had returned to normal. They were no longer shining with the obsession that she so-often recognized when it blazed to life in her father. The woman she remembered from the garden, the one that had taught her about flowers and fruits and faraway places, the one she remembered fondly in her moments of quiet, had finally come back. Serana found herself staring back in silence. She wanted to say something but everything had already been said. Whatever else needed to pass between them as mother and daughter, this was not the place and it was surely not the time. Many were the flaws in Serana’s character, and they included a distinct inability to forgive. She was still angry. She needed time.

One sad look was not enough for her. Even if she wished it was. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “We’re here for the scroll, and we’re going to stop Father.”

Her mother stood there a moment longer, her lips tightening as she waged another war with the obsession-driven monster that had taken over her body. After a moment, she nodded. “I have it with me. I can at least do that for you. A small thing, and not one that I would choose as an act of contrition, but I suppose it is all I have.”

Serana smiled weakly. “I know. Tell me how we can get to you.”

“The Ideal Masters sealed me in,” her mother said, gesturing with a peeved smile at the barrier. “That must have been a few thousand years ago. Waiting contests are not particularly interesting when waged between immortal powers.”

“I can see that. How do we breach it?” Serana looked up and noticed the barrier actually did not extend far above. Had her mother never considered climbing one of the walls? That would have been something Serana tried on the first day.

“There are three guardians that hold the barrier in place. They are normally at their – how do you say it in this tongue – their places of rest, of power. Perhaps the most frustrating thing about being here is that I can sense them, could tell you exactly where they are, but cannot reach them with my own two hands.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Eira said with a groan. Serana turned to see her back on the edge of the slope, Vengeance at the ready, staring down a small army that had gathered to stop them.

“It would seem you have piqued their interest,” Valerica said, her tone growing amused. “Whatever you did getting here must have been exciting. I hope this… friend of yours… knows how to use that blade.”

Serana looked back, catching the trailing edge of her mother’s look. She saw Vengeance and she wanted it. Serana turned fully, meeting her mother’s eyes in no uncertain terms. “She’s more than a friend. And I trust her with my life.”

The meaning did not go unnoticed. Her mother had the decency to look apologetic and smile. “Very well.”

Serana turned back toward Eira, her hand resting on her dagger. This was for the best. She really did want something to kill right now. “We’ll be back soon, mother. Don’t worry.”

 

Eira trudged down the slope, reflecting quietly on how much of Serana’s personality made perfect sense now that she had met her mother. It was the sort of experience she would remember often and never speak of. Telling Serana something like that sounded like a great way to experience how vampire’s healed broken bones.

Instead, she was polite. “How are you holding up?”

“Ask me again once we’re out of here.”

She was in one of her fighting moods. Lucky for Eira, there were plenty of other things for her to take that anger out on right now. “Fair enough. Just do me a favor and stay close, alright? I didn’t think it was possible but your mother scares me more than you do.”

“Just wait until you get to know her.”

Eira stopped on a rocky ledge, or what passed for one in the unnaturally flat Soul Cairn, and peered down at their opposition. A few dozen shades zipped back and forth, a stream of black smoke trailing behind them and obscuring those that were managing to hold still. She wanted an edge to exploit, a crack to drive a knife in, but she was not seeing one from up here. If her arrows did not pass right through them, she could have picked them off one by one while Serana fought those who got too close. If Serana had her magic, Eira could have set up a picnic and waited for her to clean up the whole mess on her own. Well, provided she put the blanket somewhere her mother could not see.

“So, that looked like it felt good,” Eira said as she continued staring at the massing army.

“Better than you can imagine,” Serana said, a rush of air escaping in veritable ecstasy as she spoke. “You have no idea how long I wanted to say that to her.”

“I’ll bet. I’m glad you were the one saying it, though. She looked about ready to reach right through the barrier and twist my head off just for fun.”

“That’s not really her style.” Serana gave her a comforting look. “Like I said, you’re getting skinned.”

“Terrific.” Eira sighed and turned back to Serana. “I don’t see another way through this, so we should play it as safe as we can. Stay close to me, deal with the fodder, and then we’ll find a way to deal with the big ones.”

The big ones, as she called them, were still lumbering up the path and would not be far behind even if the fight began right now. Eira wondered how they would handle in a fight. They looked like giants but covered in grotesque plates of bone and dripping with the same, thick smoke as their smaller cousins.

Serana mounted the ridge beside her with a grin. She leaned in closer, close enough to put Eira off her guard and into a mood best left ignored in places like this. The words left Serana’s lips and arrived at Eira’s as warm and inviting as when they had left. “Stay close to you? I think I can manage that.”

She stepped off the ledge and began sauntering toward the waiting horde. Eira did not dare to glance over her shoulder but she knew they were still in plain view of her mother. She shivered as she imagined Serana laughing, watching as her mother sewed EIra’s lips together for getting too close to her daughter.

As they descended the hill, the shades began to bunch up, grouping together where the two women would eventually hit their lines. The whole display made Eira uneasy. It was not like they were talking – well, maybe they were, just not in any way she could hear – but they were moving together, intelligently, collectively. If they really were mute, then something was pulling their strings. Considering how most mortals ended up here, that seemed both likely and incredibly unsettling. Could the Ideal Masters sense the souls of trespassers? Knowing where Serana was at any given time was easy enough, one just had to follow the smoke, but this was different. If they pushed hard enough, if the Ideal Masters really cared about someone invading their world, what could they do to that person? What could they do to her soul?

It was a silly question, considering what the shades in front of them wanted to do to their more worldly pieces. Eira flipped Vengeance in her hand and gave one last glance up to the three guardians. “I guess we got lucky, having blades like these.”

Serana scoffed. “Luck had nothing to do with it. We earned these.”

Eira was not about to argue, though she decided she did not like the idea that she had earned a gift from Sithis. “Maybe. I’m just glad we have them. We wouldn’t be able to fight here without – oh wait.”

“What?”

“Vampires come from a Daedric Lord, right?”

“Thank you for bringing that up.”

“Well, if we lose our blades somehow, do you think we could try chewing them to death?”

Serana let out a loud sigh. “You go ahead and give that a try. I’ll be over here watching.”

Weary of their prey treating this like a walk in the park, the shades abruptly dashed forward. Serana took a few languid strides out to one side, Eira shuffling to the other. They would be close enough to help each other but not so close Eira risked nicking Serana with her blade. The shades did not react at all, just flying up the hill as fast as they could, more interested in getting to the fight than getting there in good order.

Eira was still getting used to this whole dead-but-not-dead business. It left her stronger, faster, and more attuned to the world around her, all of which struck her as unforgivably funny. As the shades rushed her, she decided now would be the perfect time to get acquainted with her newfound prowess. Vengeance felt lighter, her feet felt surer, and her enemies looked angrier. She watched Serana glide a few steps ahead, meeting the first shade in the line. She easily ducked the swing of its battleaxe, slipped her dagger under its guard, and was away even before the weapon hit the ground. After that, the shades came crashing in, and Eira found herself with other things to worry about.

Vengeance proved itself invaluable. She had expected the rules to be different fighting shades – they did not have normal bodies, after all – and so she was not terribly surprised when her sword met no resistance passing through their smoke and rags. What did surprise her were the bones. The shades had skeletons lurking somewhere down below the smoke. They were most visible at the arms, their black and spindly form trailing less smoke than the rest of the body and making the bones obvious. When Eira struck these, she fully expected a jolt to come coursing through her blade, just as it would in the world above. Instead, Vengeance sliced right through the solid bone as though it was simply made of more smoke. For all Eira knew, they were made of more smoke, but she was more inclined to blame the magic sword in her hand.

She gave her blade a twirl, taking the head off one shade and watching the smoke burn away, and found herself alone. Serana had moved farther away and was finishing up with her own friends as Eira started toward her. One of the shades took a swing at Serana but found empty air. His friend moved to help but only succeeded in catching Serana’s dagger in his throat. She pushed herself around the crumbling shade, flipped the dagger in her hand, and shoved it into the last shade’s skull, ending the fight.

Serana turned to find Eira beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me being dead was this great?”

“If I told you, it would have taken all the fun out of it.” Serana laughed, her eyes shining the way they always did during a fight.

“What could possibly take the fun out of draining my blood through my neck?”

Serana folded her arms in challenge. “That’s not what happened.”

“Sure felt like it.”

“And I don’t think it matters. Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t love it.”

For what it was worth, Eira fought the good fight. She stared Serana in the eyes and tried her best to keep a straight face. The thought of what they had been through, both the pain before and the sheer ecstasy after, left her weak in the knees. It made it terribly difficult to argue with the woman.

“Fine,” Eira grumbled, stalking away toward where the three guardians were approaching. She needed something to fight right now.

“Fine what?” Serana prompted, bouncing along behind her.

“Fine, I loved it, I’ve never done anything like that in my life and the memory of it still makes me weak now tell me how we’re going to kill these things.”

Serana looked entirely too happy and gave the approaching giants a dismissive glance. “The memory of it –“

Eira cut her off. “Well, I don’t have any ideas, either, so let’s just see how this goes. I’ll go out left, you go right, and we’ll just make it up as we go.”

“Are your knees okay? Not feeling too weak?”

Eira all but ran toward the lumbering mountains of death just to escape Serana for a few sweet moments. There would be no living with her now. It was not like she was just going to forget what they had been through together. Not that Eira ever wanted to forget it. She just wished it had been different. She should have kissed her. If nothing else, it might have convinced Serana to go a bit easier on her dignity. And it would have done wonders to comfort Eira as she went headfirst into what could very well be her last fight. She hoped Vengeance would continue to impress. That bone armor looked intimidating but her sword had not cared so far. Maybe it would just slice right through.

If not, this was going to be a very short fight with a very sad ending. The three guardians raised their swords as one and began loping toward them. It was an unpleasant sight to say the least. Serana had already made herself scarce, drawing one of the three monsters far off to the right. That left two for EIra. Well, maybe she should be grateful. Having Serana take on two of these things would only inflate her ego.

Without warning, one of the guardians attacking Eira broke into a sprint. Eira faltered, unsure of how to counter a charging giant, and was nearly killed before the fight had begun. She hurled herself to one side, barely avoiding the great sword as it crashed into the ground where she had just been standing. Earth and rock sprayed her face as she leapt to her feet and charged, sprinting to get inside its guard. She hit the ground hard a second time as the sword came up in a vicious backswing that nearly cut her in two.

Knowing she was almost out of time, Eira took the last few strides, got between the giant’s legs, and took a hard swing at the monster’s kneecap. The shock that ran through Vengeance nearly took it from her hands. She stumbled, gripped the blade tighter, and kept running, her back lashed by more flying dirt as the massive sword again slammed down behind her.

She kept going, her eyes on the second guardian. She needed a chink in the armor. There was always something. It did not take her long to spot it. Black smoke streamed from between the great bone plates. That meant there was something underneath, something that Vengeance could burn away. Her speed picked up. She had to get there before the other giant bastard came up from behind and squashed her.

The second guardian took the same swing as the first and this time Eira was ready. She avoided the falling blade, kept her feet, and skittered behind its legs even before it could lift its sword from the ground. She skidded to a halt and leapt, her hand grasping bone as the creature spun to meet her. She barely kept hold of the beast as it tried turned, slamming its leg down and swatting angrily at the petulant little vampire that did not know when to die.

Eira was quicker. The moment its leg hit the ground, Eira threw herself upward, latching onto the breastplate and kicking wildly with her feet in an attempt to gain a purchase. She flipped Vengeance in one hand, finally steadying herself against the monster’s back as black smoke poured over her arm. It was unbearably cold. She felt her fingers beginning to burn already, her arm going numb and threatening to send her tumbling to the ground. The guardian knew she was there and she saw its hand come clawing over its shoulder, groping blindly for her. Vengeance twisted in her hand and she took the only chance she was going to have. She pulled herself up, reached for the monster’s neck, and brought the blade down between the plates of armor.

There was no death cry, but the smoke burned all the same. Eira whooped in triumph, only to find that the bone plates did not vanish or burn. They fell, lifeless, and carried Eira to the ground in an undignified, painful heap. She stumbled and rolled her way to the ground just ahead of the other guardian’s blade. Again it came down in a vicious, homicidal arc that shattered the armor plating and sprayed Eira with stinging bits of bone. She had barely found her feet when the blade was in the air and coming down at her head again. She dodged to the side, eager to get behind it and –

Her foot caught a rock. Down she went, Vengeance flying from her grasp as she tumbled. The monster gave her no quarter. It came in for the kill, sword screaming as it came down toward Eira’s prone form. She pushed herself madly to one side, the wind from the swing tossing her violently against the rocks. On and on it came, hauling the massive blade from the earth and bringing it down at Eira again. This time it splintered the rocks beside her. Chips cut into her face as she tried to roll away.

Another rock stabbed into her back. She did not even cry out. She just stared at the monster as it lifted its sword and came in for the killing blow.

The smoke vanished. Eira watched in horror as the blade fell, shattering the rocks beside her and finally coming to rest in a heap of rubble. The armor made puffs of violet as it kicked up dust and dirt from where it fell. A figure in black with high boots and a fine cloak stepped lazily over the dead monster. Lithe and lazy, she padded toward the awkward and helpless figure that was Eira. Eira did not even try to retain her dignity. One leg remained sprawled over a rock, her back contorted over a pile of rubble, Vengeance somewhere in the dust beside her. She did lift her head from the dust, though, intent on appearing alive if not completely normal.

Serana stopped in front of her, pinching her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “I think I see what you were going for. Lull it into a false sense of security, right? Flop around on the ground, act like you’re completely incompetent, and then spring the trap.”

Eira, still splayed out over several rocks, tried to shrug. “I’m glad you caught on to that. I think I just about had him fooled, too.”

Serana waited for Eira to stand, helping her to her feet and began none-too-gently slapping the dirt from her cloak. “You certainly fooled me. Sorry I got in the way of your master plan. I was getting bored.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Eira said lightly. “I’m just glad you were able to take some time off while I got tossed around like a ragdoll.”

“I would have been there sooner but,” she paused, grinning. “It was really fun to watch.”

“Of course it was,” Eira grumbled, taking a few pained strides and picking Vengeance out of the dirt before starting back up the hill. Serana fell in beside her, still wearing her grin.

Another pile of armor lay where it had fallen, its pose drawing Eira’s gaze as they passed. It had not fallen like Eira’s had. It was sitting against a rock, all its pieces still in place except the helm which had rolled into its lap. Serana could see her staring but offered no explanation. For her part, Eira was torn between the idea of Serana dragging it to earth, beating it to the ground with nothing but her fists before finishing it off, and the image of her just ordering the thing to sit down and let her kill it. She was not sure which was more likely but she decided the former was more comforting.

It was not a subject Eira wanted to dwell on so she decided to talk about something else. “I’ll admit, I never thought we would be walking out of here alive.”

“Neither did I,” Serana admitted as they began hiking back up the hill. “Aren’t we just the luckiest girls in the world?”

Eira had to laugh at that. “I find that hard to believe. Every time we get out of one mess, we find ourselves in the middle of another larger, more horrible one.”

“True, but that can’t go on forever, now can it?” Optimism did not come naturally to Serana and Eira resisted the urge to bring down the mood. It could not go on forever because eventually Eira would not be able to keep up. “Besides, I think we’re finally getting close. With my mother’s scroll, we’ll have everything we need to find the bow and stop my father once and for all.”

“Sure, so long as we find someone who can read the scrolls.”

“Dexion read them before. Why wouldn’t he help us now?”

Eira laughed. “Well, in case you’ve forgotten, you just finished killing me. I doubt the Dawnguard are just going to ignore that on account of my sterling reputation.”

The pun, regrettably, was lost on Serana. “Well, we could always sneak in. I wasn’t planning on having him read for an audience, anyway. Once he starts talking about the ‘Daughter of Coldharbour’ and the ‘blood of the prophecy’ everyone with a crossbow will be lining up to take a shot at me.”

“And you think you can convince Dexion to do that?”

Serana smiled. “That will be the easy part. He’s still my thrall, remember? I could strangle a puppy in front of him and he would still do what I asked.”

Eira shivered at the imagery. Even knowing Serana as she did, trusting that she would never do something like that to her, the woman was downright terrifying when she wanted to be. “So we’re planning on sneaking in, just like you did last time?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“You ended up in the torture room.”

“Because that’s where I wanted to be,” Serana explained patiently. “If I wanted to get in quietly, no one would have known I was there. I just didn’t feel like wandering all over the fort looking for you. I might have gotten thirsty.”

Eira sighed but she did trust Serana. She really could have torn the fort apart with her bare hands if she had wanted to. “Fine. I suppose that just leaves finding Dexion inside the fort. They’ll probably have him under guard.”

“And that worries you?”

“Everything worries me,” Eira muttered, scuffing her way up the fortress steps. She let Serana pass her, lingering near one of the pillars and pretending to be interested in the stone carvings beside her.

The barrier had vanished, just as she had promised, and Serana’s mother now stood in the open, ready to embrace Serana. At least, that was what normally would have happened at a time like this. Eira tried not to stare as the two greeted one another in silence. It was profoundly awkward. Serana was smiling and looked almost heartbroken, like the barrier was still there, only much smaller. Her mother stood, arms at her sides, a tiny smile playing at her own lips and a look of genuine apology around her eyes. Why they could not just hug it out was beyond Eira, though if there was ever a woman disinclined to make such a touching overture, it was Serana.

“It’s good to see you, mother,” Serana said quietly.

“It is good to see you again, my daughter,” her mother replied just as softly. “I am glad to see you safe.”

And that was all they needed. Serana began looking around the entrance. “Do you have the scroll?”

“I do. It is inside,” she said, leading them to an ornate door at the end of the entryway. Eira followed a few paces behind. “I intended to hide it here, sealing it off with my own barrier to make sure it was not discovered. The Ideal Masters had other ideas.”

The doors opened to reveal a scene disturbingly like the Grand Arena in the Imperial City. Eira suppressed a loud groan as she saw the stone pillars that ringed the center of the fighting pit, each dangling with a pair of manacles. She had always hated the sight of them, even before what happened to Natalie. It was almost remarkable, Eira realized, how very much she hated this place, and how every moment trapped in this discolored pocket of hell made her hate it even more.

“Be careful,” Serana’s mother warned as she began descending the stairs. “Now that the barrier is down, we will no doubt have drawn their attention.”

Good. That gave them an excuse to leave. Serana spoke up from near her mother. “What does that mean?”

“The Ideal Masters have a dragon under their control. It roams this plane, trapped like all the rest of the souls, and was sent from the moment I arrived to guard this prison. He will know the barrier is down, and he will be coming for us.”

Eira failed to suppress the sound of her misery. “Why?”

It was meant as a question for the Gods themselves but Serana’s mother chose to answer. “To ensure we do not leave.”

Serana turned to give Eira a glare but she was too busy to properly acknowledge it, preoccupied as she was with unlimbering her bow. When they got through this – somehow they always did, after all – she would need to ask Serana’s mother exactly how she had managed to so completely piss off the Ideal Masters. She had thought it a general rule that mortals, and most immortals, should try to anger as few deities as possible. Their anger was bad for the soul.

“You’ve just been making friends all over, haven’t you?” she asked as she selected an arrow.

“Your pet has a sharp tongue, Serana. I hope you keep her on a tight leash.”

In spite of everything, Serana flashed a very wicked grin at Eira, leaving her convinced that she would be hearing more about the idea once they finally left. It was not the thought Eira would have chosen to die on, but it was certainly not the worst, either. She set her arrow to the string and took up a stance on the stairs, eyes fixed over the arena’s far wall.

“What is it?” Serana asked. She had drawn her dagger and was looking warily at the shadows. Her mother, meanwhile, had adopted an arrogant smirk. That was just as well. It would make these next few seconds that much sweeter.

Eira raised her bow and drew her arrow back. “Your dragon pal is about to show up.”

Serana bolted for the cover of a nearby pillar. Her mother refused to move, glaring contemptuously at Eira as she waited the last few moments. “How could you know that?”

Eira did not answer. Under the judgmental eye of Serana’s mother, Eira released her arrow, watching as it arced lazily over the arena and toward the far wall. Serana skidded to a halt behind one of the pillars. Her mother scoffed. Eira waited. Just as the black blur was passing over the far wall, something else rose up to meet it. Eira savored the moment as the dragon soared over the far wall, wings spread wide, mouth agape. The arena shook with a roar beyond anything heard in Skyrim or the lands beyond.

Now Eira answered. “Because I helped your daughter kill one.”


	21. One Good Parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana battle their second dragon

Eira’s arrow found its mark. As Serana found shelter, her mother cursed and scampered down to join her, all semblance of regal dignity forgotten. Eira tried to savor the moment as the dragon shuddered violently, struck in the neck by Eira’s shot. It would have been easier if the monster had not kept right on coming, thoroughly angry and intent on seeking its revenge. She barely had enough time to follow Serana down to the arena, skidding behind the same pillar before fire washed over them.

Like everything else in this miserable world, the fire was a demented shade of purple and its flames burned piercingly cold. Even as they broke around the pillar, spilling out to either side in blinding streams, she could feel the chill rushing over her. All that was natural and instinctive in her wanted to get up and run screaming out of the arena. The rest of her wanted to grab Serana by the collar, then run screaming out of the arena.

The dragon roared as it passed overhead, vanishing from sight as it crossed the wall. Eira could hear its wings beating as it came around for another pass at them. Serana was already up and moving for better cover. Eira found herself a spot nearby and readied another arrow. If she was going to be taking shots at this thing, she did not want Serana getting caught in the blast that killed her. This was the one time she could not pull EIra’s ass out of the fire and it was damn sure not going to be the time EIra let her down.

Another blast of violet fire shot over the wall, splattering against the ground in front of Eira. The flames leapt close enough to send her scurrying away, ruining her shot as the dragon came into view. It seemed intent to freeze – it was freeze right? Freeze in cold fire? In any case, it wanted them dead before getting dirt on its claws and whatever it was spitting all over the arena was bound to do the job. Eira tried to line up another shot as it passed from view. She growled as she set the arrow to her cheek. This whole place was full of things she did not know how to kill. If it got on the ground, sure, she could just lob Vengeance at it and hope it stuck, but until then, it was mortal arrows against an immortal beast. She found herself unimpressed with the odds.

Serana’s mother agreed. As the beast came around again, Eira caught sight of her breaking cover and running out into the open. Just as the dragon passed overhead and Eira loosed her shot, she threw her arms wide. Eira felt the air crackle and had just enough time to raise an eyebrow before a sudden gust of wind beat her into the dirt. She did not even see if her arrow hit. Of course, as she picked herself up off the ground and craned her neck to the sky, she was fairly certain that it did not matter.

The dragon no longer flew overhead but spun end over end like a dog chasing its tail. She could hear it screaming in frustration even from down here. Whatever Serana’s mother was doing, at the very least she was pissing it off. Now nothing more than a leaf caught in a gale, the dragon began spiraling upward. The clouds had begun to swirl with the winds. Soon they began to form a funnel that crackled with brilliant streaks of lightning as it moved to engulf the arena. Eira could not suppress the feeling of sheer panic that came with seeing something this powerful, something so all-consuming and completely beyond the grasp of mortal powers. The dragon howled and raged and thrashed in vain as the winds carried it into the mouth of the storm.

The sky shattered. Thousands of bolts crisscrossed the clouds, all bursting forth at once and all passing through the same, unhappy creature caught in the maelstrom. Eira could not even watch, the image of the sky shattering like glass now seared into her brain. She found herself staggering, covering her eyes with one hand and trying to heal the damage that had been done to them. That was when the thunder came. In a moment, all sound vanished, replaced by an ear-splitting crash that seemed to drive iron spikes right through her ears. Eira found herself crouching in the dirt, eyes closed, hands over her ears in agony as she tried to drown out the noise. For hours she must have stayed this way, holding her head to keep it from splitting open.

When it finally stopped, it took several moments for Eira to rise from her stupor. Her ears rang and her eyes were still etched with bolts of lightning but she was determined not to cower a moment longer. Again she looked toward the sky. She was just in time to see the smoking corpse of the beast come crashing to the ground, landing with a sickening crack right in the center of the arena. Eira felt like going over and poking it to make sure –

Its head moved. It was charred, smoldering, its skin was falling away, and still it was alive. Serana’s mother looked stunned. The dragon opened one great eye and fixed it right on her. It took only a moment. She barely had time to throw up a ward before more fire exploded from its jaws. The blistering cold sent Eira scrambling for cover even though it was aimed nowhere near her. She watched as the dragon scrabbled in the dirt, one foot finding purchase on the stone as the others scraped and scratched. She could see the ward flashing, straining against the onslaught.

Eira did the only thing she could do. She popped out of safety, aimed at the only weak spot she could see, and let fly. Her arrow flew straight this time and the dragon screamed, lurching to the side as the shaft pierced its eye. After the lightshow in the sky, Eira had no illusions about bringing the monster down with sharpened sticks, but at least she could still cause it pain. The beast reared up, its fire fading, and Serana’s mother bolted for shelter.

The triumph was short-lived. The great eye swung toward Eira, the arrow swinging right along with it. EIra felt herself swallow hard as the beast blinked, the arrow snapping in two and falling pathetically to the ground. It was all she could do to dive back behind the pillar as more fire exploded around her. The dragon screamed long and loud, as though trying to kill her was not enough, and Eira heard the thunder of its footsteps as it turned on her. She did not dare to rise from the ground. Even lifting her head surely meant she would lose it.

Another almighty crash shook the earth. The fire stopped and the screams changed from rage to agony. The stench of burning flesh filled the air. Eira forced herself to pull her face from the dirt and, sleeve pressed to her mouth, looked toward the center of the arena. The dragon had been knocked from its feet and was now flopping on its side, its wings flapping uselessly as it tried to right itself. Serana’s mother again had emerged from the shadows, one hand raised to the heavens and a bright, blue light in the clouds. As the light flickered, another bolt crashed to the ground, slamming down with enough force to blow Eira’s hair from her eyes and the fog from her mind. She readied another arrow just as the dragon unleashed another blast against Serana’s mother.

The fire exploded sideways in a wide cone but the lightning stopped falling. Before it could stand and start lumbering toward its victim, Eira drew another arrow and lent what little aid she could against the monster. Again her arrow struck home and again it was met with the same, contemptuous snarls and hateful looks. In this clash of titanic figures, Eira was little more than a petulant mosquito, and one the dragon was intent on squashing.

It was Serana that pulled Eira to safety this time. She came from nowhere, vaulting over a pile of rubble and pulling Eira behind the safety of solid rock before they were both turned to violet ash. More fire crashed around them, more screams filled the air. Serana was shouting something but it was impossible to hear over the din. Maybe she was screaming, too. That was what any sensible person would be doing right now.

Another bolt of lightning hit the ground and put a stop to the din. Eira swore and spat and wondered what wrath of Gods and men could possible kill this blasted thing. Serana’s shouting finally made itself heard over the pained groans of the dragon.

“The scroll!”

She gestured frantically toward a small alcove in the wall. It was not far, certainly within reach of a quick sprint while her mother had the beast distracted. More importantly, it was safe.

Eira grabbed Serana by the arm and shoved her toward the opening. “Go! Grab it and get to the portal! I’ll look after your mother!”

Against all odds, Serana actually ran. She went for the opening as fast as she could, leaving Eira to save her mother from a fire-breathing demon fifty times her size that could not be killed by mortal instruments or magical fire. How Serana could not use magic here but her mother could was beyond Eira’s capacity to comprehend, but she was not about to question her good fortune. Another arrow found its way to her hand, onto her string, and into the eye of the abomination. Well, if she could not kill it, she could sure make it bleed for its trouble.

More fire drove Eira behind cover as the dragon continued its dance. At least it was stupid. As long as she kept poking it like this, it would not have time to focus on Serana’s mother. That gave her time to recover, to plan, or at least that was what Eira was telling herself. The footsteps drew closer, thundering across the arena, the fire growing more intense with each shuddering of the earth. Any moment now, Serana’s mother would knock it to the floor.

The footsteps kept coming. Eira felt herself growing closer and closer to a state of panic as each footfall came and went without an answer from the clouds above. Just as the fire stopped, Eira threw herself forward. She had not even hit the ground before the dragon swung its neck in a great arc, destroying the pillar and sending chunks of masonry zipping around her head like angry hornets. Pieces the size of her fist struck her back and legs with enough force to stagger her. The fall wrenched her bow from her grasp. Her hands scraped against the arena floor as she scrambled in the dirt. She had to run. She had to get up.

At last, the heavens answered, and what an answer they gave. EIra heard the bolts strike so close that her heart stopped with every new crash. Still she forced herself up, the claws of the dragon scratching at the ground behind her close enough that she could feel them in her bones. She did not dare look back to see how close its jaws had come to her. Her bow had skidded almost to the next pillar. Eira grabbed it as she ran, making for safety on the far side of the arena. She needed space. Another close call like that and her heart would stop before the dragon ever got a chance to devour it.

She reached shelter as the crash-and-boom of the lightning came to stop. Serana’s mother was in plain view and – was she taunting it? She waited until it saw her, until it tried to fight back before striking. The harder she hit, the more the dragon raged. It almost looked like she was drawing it toward her, toward the edge of the arena. Away from Serana.

Good. She deserved at least one good parent in her life.

Eira reached back and grasped for another arrow. Her hand came away empty. Shit. Not now.

Serana’s mother looked toward her. Eira gave her a helpless look, holding her arms out wide. She had nothing. If the woman had an ace up her sleeve, now was the time to play it.

Whether the thought carried across the arena was never apparent, but the next thing Eira knew, she was slamming headfirst into another of those stone pillars. The wind gusted, snapping furiously at her cloak, dragging her toward the center of the fighting pit. She scrambled frantically for the safety of the pillar, clinging to the base with her fingers and clawing her way up until she could wrap her arms around it. Her bow swung from her shoulder, slapping her in the leg and threatening to drag her into the storm. It was too late to let it go, if she could even bring herself to do it. As she pressed her face against the stone, she saw what was happening to the dragon.

Again, Serana’s mother had it trapped, only this time it was stuck to the ground, bent double under the unrelenting wind. Eira could see it lifting its head, slowly turning it toward the older woman and shaking with effort as it did. It finally found her, its mouth opened to scream but its cry lost in the wind. Eira watched as it tried to lunge, its legs faltering as it clawed against the ground. She did not need to hear its cries to know it was enraged. A blast of purple fire ripped from its maw and was lost in the wind, blown in a bizarre, glowing spiral until the flames licked along its own scales. If her plan was just to make the thing angrier, she was doing a fantastic job. Eira tried to twist her neck enough to see where Serana was hiding.

She never had time. Just as the sky had shattered, the world was set alight, and everything around her burned. Eira tried to dig further into the solid stone, her arms straining as she held on for dear life. The heat that washed over her was so intense she was certain her hair was going to catch fire just from being this close. Her cloak snapped wildly behind her, reaching for the flames in an act of purest betrayal. Even as she closed her eyes to the unbearable heat, she wanted to stare in awe at the wall of flame that had burst to life in front of her. Around and around it spun, twisted toward the clouds by the winds still trying to pry Eira from her pillar.

The dragon had vanished. There was nothing – no howl of agony, no beating of wings against the wind. There was nothing except the constant, ungodly roar of fire and wind. Eira tried to shield the exposed skin of her face and neck as the fire threatened to sear it right off. And yet, even as she was one tiny slip from becoming a cloud of ash floating on the wind, she could not help but marvel at the display. Serana’s mother must have been a mage of extraordinary talent to do something like this. This was beyond anything Eira had ever seen. The heat was unbearable. Nothing could survive this. Nothing.

Just as soon as it had begun, the storm ceased. Eira fell to the ground, her arms aching, fingers sore and begging for mercy. She rolled to her side, propping herself up on knees and elbows in an effort to regain her feet. Across the arena, veiled by a screen of gray smoke, Serana’s mother had crumpled to her knees. She looked like she was going to be sick. A moment later, as though prompted by Eira’s thoughts, she began to shudder as a violent coughing fit overtook her. Eira tried to stand, her own lungs seared by the fire and now choked with ash and dust. There was so much of it wafting on the air that the color of the world had momentarily turned from violet to gray.

Eira began staggering toward the alcove in search of Serana when she stopped, frozen in disbelief. There, in the center of the arena, was the dragon. Its wings had burned to nothing, its bones hanging exposed under tatters of blackened scales. Its body was hardly recognizable. Scales turned black with ash clung to bones charred violently black or shining impossibly white as more scales fell away. Its claws and teeth remained as a grotesque reminder that this thing had been alive.

It was still alive.

A horrible, stomach-churning sound unlike anything Eira had ever heard now grated at her ears. The quiet, pitiful scratching of its claws on the stone combined with the boiling-tar sound now rising from the dragon’s throat. Even as it froze EIra in place, everything about it screamed at her to run. She would not have believed it if it was not happening right in front of her. Where would she run? Had Serana even survived? The monster was clawing harder, its skin sloughing off as it tried to stand. Serana’s mother had not moved. She remained on her knees, staring in pure hatred as the immortal dragon tried to rise.

Eira bolted across the arena, taking Serana’s mother by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She was coughing, her legs seeming to give out whenever she tried to stand. Without stopping, Eira hoisted her higher, getting the woman’s arm over her shoulder and running harder than before. They had to get out of here. Serana would have wanted her to save her mother first. She just had to get her mother somewhere safe before coming back to look for Serana.

As she reached the stairs, she saw Serana herself come pelting along the side of the arena, a second Elder Scroll bouncing against her back as she ran. She met them near the top of the stairs just as her mother pushed her way off Eira’s shoulder and turned back toward the arena. The dragon was still struggling to stand but had managed to turn itself around to face the three women.

Serana tried to grab her mother’s shoulder as Eira shouted at her. “What the hell are you doing? We need to leave before that thing starts coming after us again.”

“I cannot,” Serana’s mother said weakly. She managed at last to stand up straight and fix her eyes on her battered enemy of two thousand years. “The risk is too great. Go. I –“

Eira was not listening. She wanted to just knock her over the head and drag her back to the portal. She very nearly did. She would have done anything to keep Serana from losing her mother again. They may not have been on the best of terms, but this was her family, and Eira would be dead before she saw it ripped apart any more than it already was.

So she pushed her to the side, drew Vengeance, and started walking toward the dragon.

“Eira!” Serana’s scream cut through the air in desperation. It was almost enough to turn her back. Eira kept going. This was too important. She had to do something – anything.

The dragon was staring right at her. She broke into a run. Its skin was in tatters, its eyes burned away, bone and muscle showing where scales had turned to ash, and still it would not die. It would fight to the bitter end. No power in this world could stop it. Eira knew that as she charged, urging her feet to fly. Vengeance sang beside her. She had to try something.

It heard her coming. It coughed and stream of violet fire spewed toward the steps. Eira was already moving, lunging to the side and away from the freezing flames. She forced herself to go faster, faster than she had ever moved while she was alive. The fire choked and died in its throat. Eira gripped Vengeance tighter. The dragon reared back like a snake and struck, jaws snapping.

Eira was quicker. She fell to the ground, sliding sideways, dust flying from her knees. Her boots scuffed as she lunged. She saw her opening. Vengeance flashed.

There was nothing to stop her. Up through the jaw Eira guided her blade, into whatever remained deep inside the dragon’s skull. She felt Vengeance strike it, heard the dying cry from deep within the creature’s chest. From the top of the dragon’s head, piercing the great beast’s skull, shone the light of Eira’s sword.

She ripped it free and the dragon tumbled to the ground, dead at long last. Already the unnatural fire of Vengeance was eating away at the poor monster’s remains. Eira spared it a moment’s thought, wondering if it was grateful to be free of this place, and turned her back on the second dragon she had slain. Had she still been mortal, she certainly would not have survived. The dragon’s lunge had been too sudden, too unexpected. Eira had thought it too clumsy after being so badly beaten in its duel with Serana’s mother. She had thought losing its eyes would at least slow it down, even if losing half its skin had not. Really, she was incredibly lucky to be alive.

None of this showed as she started walking back toward Serana and her mother. She tried to look heroic, not looking back at the dragon she had slain, keeping Vengeance hanging at her side as she made for the steps. Serana looked impressed and was slowly fidgeting at the top of the steps in an unsuccessful bid at apathy. Her mother, meanwhile, had dropped her permanent scowl. She actually looked amused but that could have been a trick of the light. It had taken a long time for Eira to get a good read on Serana. Maybe it ran in the family.

“Well, you handled yourself alright in there,” Serana’s mother admitted as Eira reached them. It was probably the closest thing to a compliment Eira was ever going to get. Eira smiled graciously.

“It’s a challenge, keeping up with your daughter,” she said easily. Serana gave her a very flat look – one Eira did not understand, innocent as she was – but quickly hid it when her mother turned to face her.

A genuine smile grew in affection as she spoke to her daughter. “Indeed it is,” she said quietly. It seemed that the battle had brought out the side of her Serana had spoken of so fondly. Perhaps fighting to save her daughter, and being ready to sacrifice herself in the end, had brought out the best of her.

Serana was too eager to let her finish. “How is it that you can use your magic here, mother?”

“It took me some time to learn the secrets of it, but I would have expected you to pick it up by now,” she teased. Eira found herself going back through their earlier conversation, when Serana had first seen her through the barrier, when it seemed this place had driven her to madness. Whoever they had been speaking to before the dragon came, she was not Serana’s mother. “You know, of course, how to manipulate the physical world – our world, I should say. Tell me, how would you describe the process?”

“Through mana, the innate possibilities represented in every natural system are altered to suit our needs.” Serana answered it readily and confidently.

“Very good,” her mother said, obviously pleased with the quick answer. “It is our observations that alter reality, and mana that allows us to force these observations onto the shared reality of the world. What would you say is different here? Besides the light, of course. We are in another world. We can assume at least a few things have changed.”

Serana squinted, furrowing her brow and looking around at the barren, purple fields all around. Eira waited for her to answer, suddenly afraid that her mother would come asking for Eira’s opinion next. She could not exactly follow what was being said. Shared reality? Was there another kind? And was there a way to share it with exactly one other person and say to hell with the rest? It was not the sort of conversation one indulged in when meeting a woman’s family for the first time but maybe vampire families were different.

“If there is no mana,” Serana began carefully. “There must be another method of forcing change. We’ve seen it can be done, after all – rather, you showed us it can be done. If there is another way, it cannot be through simple observation. Otherwise, the surroundings and structure of the Soul Cairn would be based solely on the will of the observer. There would be nothing here. Or complete chaos.”

Eira resisted the urge to point at the dead horse, covered in blue flames, galloping and screaming its way across one of the distant hillsides. Things were already rather chaotic. Insane, actually.

Serana’s mother remained silent. She rubbed the fingers on her right hand together, as though she were holding a lucky coin, but otherwise said nothing. Eira could see the faint glow of pride on her face as she watched the wheels in Serana’s head turn and turn. Ever so slowly, a smile began to form on Serana’s lips. Her mother practically beamed then, an expression that took a few thousand years off her life in a heartbeat before it vanished.

Serana held one hand out in front of her, spread her fingers, and grinned as little bolts of lightning began arcing between her fingers.

“You see?” Her mother’s voice was full of pride, now. “It is easy.”

“How did you figure it out?” Serana asked, giddy as a little girl.

“Well, it took me far longer than that, but after observing several magical exchanges between the creatures here, things began to make sense. I am not so old that I cannot learn a few new tricks.”

Serana turned her excited smile on Eira who found herself smiling without thinking, her face growing uncomfortably hot as she did and she found herself smiling without thinking and – her mother is right there, stop it, get a hold of yourself. It was no use. Eira just grinned like a damned fool. Hopefully the purple light covered how red she was turning. She had never seen Serana so happy. She was so human like this. Maybe Eira could learn to do that, or they could visit the College again or – focus.

Mercifully, Serana failed to notice her falling to pieces over one smile. She had turned her attention back to her hands, cupping them and holding them up in front of her chest. In her hands, a tiny cloud formed, swirling and spinning in a breeze Eira could not see. Shards of ice glistened and snow began to swirl with the cloud. Then lightning began to arc between the shards, lighting up her hands as well as the joyous smile on her face. Eira felt herself beginning to flush again. Gods, she looked happy.

She wished Serana would turn that smile on her again, but she was not so lucky as that. Serana let the beautiful little creation fall away, turning back to her mother to ask more questions Eira did not understand. “It feels like I’m still using mana. It feels the same as it does in our world. Why couldn’t I do this before?”

“The system, as far as I can tell, is nearly identical to the one you are familiar with,” her mother explained. “Your magic is like a muscle – a physical part of you, let’s say. You are used to lifting with it, moving something only one way. That is how it works in our world. You take the fire from one place and move it to where you need it. Here, you are suddenly forced to push or pull. In keeping with the analogy, you try to lift your fire, but nothing happens. You lift but the fire does not move. Even if your arm knows how to push, if it can push with just as much strength as it can lift, you must first know how to push. And of course once you do, nothing could be simpler. It is the same muscles, you did not grow another arm to help you, and nothing could be more natural.”

“If they’re that similar, they must have been created by the same entity, or they exist in the same universe as one another,” Serana said, bubbling with excitement.

“Both are entirely possible. I expect that, should I ever be fortunate enough to return to our world, I will have trouble casting even the simplest spells for a time. I have been here a very long time. I will have forgotten how to lift, as it were.”

Serana’s excitement began to fall away. “If you – aren’t you coming back with us?”

“I wish I could, but you know as well as I do that my presence would only be a danger. Your father would find me, and if he could, he would use my blood for the prophecy. We cannot risk this.”

“We can protect each other. He cannot stand up to all three of us, not together.”

Serana’s mother glanced at Eira. She gave off the distinct impression of a woman waiting to see what made her worth her daughter’s time, let alone her inclusion in their struggle for the mortal world. “No, Serana. I must remain here.”

Her tone brooked no argument. Serana visibly sagged, all the light that had filled her up moments ago fading away more quickly than it had come. Her mother now fully turned on Eira.

“You,” she said in a loveless tone. “I don’t know what you’re doing with my daughter or why she trusts you so readily as to share the fate of the world with you, but for now I must leave that judgment with her. Whatever her reasons, she has made her choice, and now I must ask this of you. You must promise me you will keep her safe. Promise me this, and know that if she is ever hurt, you will wish you had left me to that dragon. There are many dark places in the world a woman can disappear. You will know them all if you betray her.”

Eira found herself repressing a grin. Like mother, like daughter. “I promise. I will protect your daughter.”

“See that you do. She is the only thing of value that I have left.”

“That makes two of us.”

Eira did not need to think about her answer and it was out of her mouth before she could stop it. She held the stare of Serana’s mother, unwilling to look at Serana herself, and watched as the woman’s face began to soften. Apparently it was the right thing to say. Whether Serana would ever let her live it down once they left was another matter.

After a moment, it was Serana’s turn. Her mother gave her a fond smile and what might have been a knowing look. “I hope you have made the right choice, my daughter. This is something I would not have trusted to anyone.”

“It’s alright, mother,” Serana said quietly. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worrying is all I have done for thousands of years, child,” she said with a smirk. “I find I’m very good at it. I will stay here, and I will worry, and I will do what I can to remain hidden. The Ideal Masters are clever but they are slow, and even the excitement of your arrival will not turn their eyes for some time. Should they try to imprison me again, they will find me ready, and I will not be taken so easily again.”

Serana made a visible effort to smile. “We’ll be back soon, I promise. Once we find Auriel’s Bow, you don’t need to stay hidden. We’ll come back for you and – and we’ll stop Father. Together.”

Her mother forced a smile of her own. “Very well. Once you have the bow, I will leave, and we will find a way to stop him. It will be good, I think, to breathe the fresh air once more.”

Eira did not exactly expect them to hug one another but that did not stop their parting from feeling painfully awkward. Serana fidgeted and looked as though she wanted to do something more for her mother who, in equal awkwardness, did absolutely nothing. After the touching reunion between mother and daughter, it was painfully obvious that neither of them wanted it to end this way.

It was Serana’s mother who finally ended it. “Be safe, my daughter.”

She spared a pointed look for Eira as she said it. Serana did not notice. “We won’t be long, mother. I promise.”

With a great deal of effort, Serana turned away from her mother and toward the portal that would take them home. Her strides were slow, waiting as she was for her mother to reconsider, but they were never interrupted. Eira tagged along beside her as they left. She said nothing. Moments like this were the kind best spent alone with your thoughts, or at least that was her experience. Serana had been through far more than Eira ever had. Perhaps she knew a better way.

No shades rose to stop them as they made for the distant stairs. Eira could plainly see the hole in reality that would allow them to leave this place and return to Castle Volkihar. She wondered if any of the lost souls here had tried to use it. They seemed to be ignoring it, unwilling even to look at it. Perhaps they were unable to see it. That would make a certain kind of sense. It was actual merciful. No doubt the Ideal Masters would have some way of keeping them from passing back into the world of the living. To have been trapped here for so long and to finally see a door in the distance, unguarded and ajar, would have been nothing short of torture.

Eira wondered how Serana’s mother could stand it. Had it been her, after being stuck here against her will, agonizing every moment over the fate of her daughter, she would have jumped at the chance to be free. She wondered if she should have said something, tried to convince her that they would be better off sticking together. Not that she was eager to have Serana’s mother along for the journey – if nothing else, they’re late-night talks would be far more… uncomfortable.

“Thank you.”

Eira gave Serana a look. “What for?”

“For… everything, I guess.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s nice, meeting the parts of your family that would rather save my life than feed on it.”

Serana laughed. “She doesn’t know you like I do. But I mean it, Eira. I’m glad you were here. I don’t think I could have done this on my own.”

“You would have been fine,” Eira said, brushing it off as she always did. “But I’m glad I was here. Now, if you don’t mind, I would very much like to leave.”

“Agreed,” Serana said, happily walking a bit faster.

No one disturbed them as they approached the portal. The souls wandering near the road paid them no mind as they passed, their insane mutterings mercifully far away. Perhaps the Ideal Masters wanted them gone just as badly and had cleared the path for their convenience. Whatever the case, Eira was not about to complain. They reached the stairs, Serana taking one last look around as she climbed, and returned to the world of the living.

Eira came through with Vengeance drawn but found the room completely empty. Somehow, after all the racket they had made getting here, no one had thought to come and see what all the fuss was about. She could not imagine Harkon just brushing off the noises coming from the abandoned parts of the castle. With any luck, he had not managed to find the entrance yet and was still scratching his head in frustration.

Serana came through behind her, fire trailing from her fingertips just to prove that she could still defend herself. Eira caught her looking around the room, eyes lingering mournfully on a few pieces here and there. She had no idea what anything in here actually was, so she was not sure if these things had belonged to her mother or were just relics of great rarity that she would prefer not to abandon.

“Do you have a plan for getting out of here?” Eira asked.

“Back the way we came, I suppose. It’s not exactly my first choice, but I don’t see many others.”

Eira felt much the same way. “We’ll just be quiet and hope no one heard us coming in.”

Serana smirked. “Well put.”

Eira began walking toward the door, descending the stairs and waiting in vain for Serana to follow. She took her time in leaving. Eira caught sight of her picking a few choice items off the shelves and tucking them away in her pockets. It was not the time to ask and Eira was sure she would find out sooner or later, anyway. When she finally did reach the door, something else had distracted Eira. It was not a feeling she was familiar with and it was one she found distinctly uncomfortable. She had not thought about it before, lost in the intimacy of the moment when Serana had nearly kissed her.

Serana noticed, too. “What is it?”

She hesitated, unsure exactly how to say it. It was not exactly something you just blurted out, but there was really no other way. “I’m hungry.”


	22. The Elder Scrolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira reads the Elder Scrolls to learn the location of Auriel's Bow

Serana adjusted the leather straps digging into her shoulder. She had done that a thousand times since they had started climbing this stupid mountain. The rocks in front of her face mocked her almost as loudly as the scuffing of Eira’s boots above her head. She did not need to look up to see the woman looking down at her, waiting to help her up to the next ledge. It drove her out of her mind just knowing she was there. She was a Daughter of Coldharbour. She did not need help.

And yet here she was. She adjusted the straps a second time and tried to comfortably settle the three Elder Scrolls now hanging from a satchel on her back. It probably would have been easier to try climbing with Eira on her back. Paper should not have weighed this much, not even magic, universe-defining paper. This should not have even been her problem in the first place. She never should have been forced to drag these sorry bastards halfway across the world just so they could feel special enough to help save the world.

She sighed, putting one fist against the stone in silent protest. She should have just stayed asleep.

Dexion was blind. After walking all the way back to Fort Dawnguard and – just like she had told Eira – sneaking in completely undetected, they found the Moth Priest with a bandage around his eyes. Serana had even tried to heal him but it was like trying to heal a severed leg. Some things were beyond even her skill. The gods had taken his sight for one inarticulate, unhelpful glimpse into the future. And people thought the Daedra were bad. Of course he had helped them, after a fashion. It turned out there was another way to read the Elder Scrolls. You just needed to get them in the right mood.

So it was that they had learned of this forgotten corner of Skyrim. She should have been grateful that such a place even existed and especially that it existed so conveniently nearby. When he had started talking about this mysterious glade of the magical power, she had fully expected to leave Skyrim and wander the world with Eira in search of it for the next hundred years. That would have made for quite a story. And, not that such things were on Serana’s mind, it would have given them both the time they needed to get comfortable with one another.

She smiled at that. If only Eira had heard that. Serana could use a good laugh right about now.

Instead, Eira still waited in silence. Serana did not need to look up to know the hand was there for her to take. She also did not need to ask who would be reading the Elder Scrolls. In order to find Auriel’s Bow, Dexion had made it perfectly clear that someone would need to read all three scrolls, one after another, in order to see the full picture. He had then quietly begged Serana to find someone else to do it. He was still her thrall, after all, and he did not want to see his mistress subjected to the torments of such a reading. Eira had said nothing after hearing that and neither of them had brought it up since. The simple truth was they both already knew how this was going to end. By the end of the night, Eira would be blind, mad, or dead.

There was no way around it. The Elder Scrolls always took something from the reader. No one ever got away clean. Eira would volunteer, of course. That was just who she was. She would tell Serana it had to be her, that she was expendable and that Serana was important. If Serana argued, she would tell her it was not her choice. She might even bring up Natalie. That would get her to fold. There was nothing Serana could ever say to that. She would not force Eira to lose someone else. Not even to save her life.

Serana looked up at Eira’s waiting hand. It should not have bothered her so much. She should have felt no regret, no remorse at letting someone else take such an enormous risk. There were more important things in the world, things that someone like Serana needed to be there for. She had done so much, sacrificed so much just to get here. One human life was nothing compared to her own.

Of course, she was not supposed to feel so much affection for a single human life but that had not exactly worked out for her, either. She had grown very fond of her idiot during their travels together and, much to her annoyance, was having a difficult time imagining her life without Eira. Things would go back to being quiet. She had started this journey wondering if she would be better off alone. Now she wondered if she could ever survive being so completely alone again.

Eira would need to pay for that, somehow.

Serana reached up and took Eira’s hand, hauling herself up the cliff with only a little of Eira’s help. This whole mess infuriated her almost as much as the long climb up the mountain. Discovering Eira was a better climber somehow made everything that much worse. She was not even sure why.

There were several more moments of agonizing humility waiting for her further up the mountain. After resting on the ledge for a few minutes, Eira began pulling herself up the next length of the cliff in silence. Serana followed her once she had reached the top. As much as she wanted to stay where she was and drag out the climb, she knew they had to keep going. Her father would not be far behind them. Twice during their journey they had come to blows with his people and Eira insisted more were lurking just out of sight. Serana loved a challenge but even she balked at fighting a dozen vampire zealots while dangling from the side of a mountain. Up and up they climbed, Serana begrudgingly accepting help from Eira until she thought it would drive her mad.

At long last, they found themselves on a wide shelf cut into the rock. There was enough space for grass, shrubs, and even a few trees to make themselves comfortable in the shadow of the mountain. Serana pointedly avoided the sizeable crack in the rock that would take them inside the mountain itself. There was no reason to go charging in. She would not force Eira into this.

The view was spectacular. Serana wandered to the edge of the cliff where Eira was standing. They could practically see forever. Gentle breezes snaked their way through the forests at the base of the mountain, their paths broken only by the great cemeteries of Falkreath and their perfect rows of motionless, gray headstones. She could see the end of that forest to the north, the trees giving way to the rolling tundra that surrounded the city of Whiterun. Were it not for the mountains, she would have been able to see all the way to Winterhold and the gleaming sea beyond.

“You know, there are places in Skyrim where you can see half the world,” Eira said quietly.

Serana was still trying to pick out the White River to the east. “So I see.”

“No, I mean more than this. Have you ever been to the Throat of the World? Climbed the Seven Thousand Steps? It’s breathtaking.”

She gave Eira a curious look. “You walked to High Hrothgar?”

Eira nodded. “You wouldn’t believe the view. It’s very… peaceful, up there.”

“I didn’t take you for the religious type. What made you take the pilgrimage?”

“It wasn’t a pilgrimage, really,” Eira admitted, looking toward the mountain and smiling faintly. “Just trying to clear my head. I felt lost after I left the Brotherhood. Is it so hard to believe I went looking for enlightenment?”

It was not hard to believe at all. “Did you find it?”

“Of a sort. Sometimes that’s all it takes; a little solitude, some fresh air, and a reminder. The markers on the path tell the story of how humanity was once enslaved by dragons and how they used the Voice to Shout themselves to freedom.” Eira chuckled. “I’ll admit, I was feeling irreverent when I started the climb. Can you imagine? Freeing yourself by yelling so loud that your dragon overlords left the world?”

“I’d never thought of that,” Serana admitted lightly. “I’ve always been fond of the more direct approach but do you think we should have tried? There’s always next time, I suppose.”

“Next time,” Eira said with a smile. “You’re probably right about that.”

“So what was it?” Serana asked. Eira gave her a puzzled look. “You said you were feeling irreverent when you started. What changed?”

Another of Eira’s quiet laughs came before her answer. “If you’re hoping for a tale of inspiration with the hero meditating on a mountaintop, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. I never reached the peak. I found the monastery and – I don’t know. I wanted to knock, which is insane and for some reason I still wish I had, but I never did. Instead I found somewhere to rest for the night and built myself a little fire. It was the strangest thing. I hadn’t done it in years. When I was out for the Brotherhood, I never allowed myself a fire. You don’t want someone knowing you’re following them, after all. It was the same way when I was looking for revenge. I always thought to myself ‘if I’m cold tonight, I’ll get the drop on him tomorrow.’ It was never true and I guess I just got used to the cold.”

Eira folded her arms over her chest, as though after so many nights of sleeping in the elements the cold had begun to seep into her bones. Serana resisted the urge to put an arm around her. “But you let yourself have one that night.”

“I did. And it made me feel more human than I had in years. It was the silliest thing but it made all the difference in the world. It got me thinking about, well, everything, I guess. About all the bad I’d done in the Brotherhood and about whatever it was I was living for. The fire reminded me I was still human and all it took was a little heat to jog my memory. It was the first time I thought about going back. I could give up and go do something meaningful with my life, something that would really make Natalie proud. So I start thinking about the story on the markers. Nobody cares who the people in the story were. They could have all been baby-murdering, puppy-kicking demons until the very day they saved the world. It doesn’t matter now. Whatever they were before, they became the story on the path. They saved the world. The rest just faded away.”

Serana smiled wanly. “Enticing, for a runaway assassin.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Serana smiled more earnestly at that. Eira had a way of forgetting who she was talking to. “And maybe part of it was the view. You can’t look out over half the world and not feel small. There’s so much out there. How can there be no way back from who we are? Whatever I had done, there was a way to save myself and…”

She trailed off, staring at something in the distance while Serana watched her lips work. “It seems like you did a good job saving yourself,” she whispered.

If ever there was a moment she should have taken Eira by the hand and kissed her, she was watching it slip away. This could be the last moment they spent together. If the gods took Eira’s life as payment for reading the scroll, that would be the end. There would never be another chance for Serana to tell her how important she was, how much she meant to her. She would never have a chance to tease, berate, and belittle the woman before building her back up. That would probably be a small mercy for Eira. Serana had never been very good at expressing her feelings. It was probably her upbringing. A normal person would have been able to sit Eira down and tell her – well, something. Anything. Or nothing. She could just kiss her. It should not have been this hard.

Eira was shaking her head as though Serana had been making a joke. She probably should have been. Playing aloof and mysterious around Eira had gotten difficult after so long but she did have her dignity, even if she wished she did not. It would have been so much easier, and so much more satisfying, if she could just tell her these things.

_She’s right there. Look around. This is perfect. Just lean over, tap her on the shoulder – no, take her by the shoulder – and kiss her. This is it. This is the last chance you will ever have to do it and you will regret it for the rest of your very long life if you don’t_ kiss _her._

She did nothing. Beneath all her desire, there was the simple truth that Eira deserved better. She deserved her time to move on. It would happen – and it would happen soon, if Serana was to stay sane – but it would happen on her terms. She deserved that much.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Eira said, oblivious to Serana’s internal struggle.

Serana tried to look away and focus on the scenery but found it less enthralling than it should have been. It really was a beautiful sight. She should have been all too eager to take it in. In all the time they had been together, she had never seen Eira look at the world like this. She must have been just as terrified as Serana. It was her life being risked in this adventure. Serana suddenly felt a stab of shame. Eira had just gotten her life back and already she was gambling it away for a girl she had only just met. It felt like they had been together for years. The truth, that Serana had first fallen into her arms hardly a month ago, sounded practically beyond belief.

This should not have been happening. Not to Eira. It should have been someone else’s life, not hers. She had the sudden urge to loosen the straps on her back and toss the Elder Scrolls down the cliff. Oops. Now they would have to climb back down to get them. By then it would be daylight and they would make camp, waiting until dark to make their ascent once more. That would give them some time. It would give Eira time.

It was time they did not have. Her father would be coming for them. They were there, lurking, always just out of sight but close enough that Eira swore up and down they were being followed.

“You’ll see it again,” Serana heard herself promising. “Once we’re done with all this.”

Eira smiled. “I hope so. Knowing us, there will be a dragon involved, but I look forward to it all the same.”

At last Serana found her voice. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way. We can go to the Imperial City, find a priest there.”

“That will take time we don’t have,” Eira intoned. “We can’t risk your father finding another way to the bow. We have to do this.”

Serana opened her mouth to protest but Eira stopped her with a look. She had made her choice, and nothing Serana could say would make a difference. She smiled, put one hand on her arm, and began walking toward the mountain. Serana let herself be turned, following behind her, helpless and silent. This was how it had to be.

Darkness swallowed them as they passed inside the cave. For anyone not a vampire, it would have been impossible to see, and Serana was reminded of the first time she had led Eira through a similar passage. That had been the first time Eira had nearly lost her life protecting Serana. She found herself deeply uncomfortable with the parallel. If she survived this, Serana would find a nice farm in the middle of nowhere and make sure Eira never left again. She had been through enough in her time.

The cave began to shrink as they moved deeper into the mountain, narrowing on all sides until they were both shuffling sideways in order to fit. Eira grumbled and scraped as bits of rock began to dig at her sides. Serana closed her eyes and tried not to think about how close the walls were. She found herself thinking constantly of her imprisonment, the memories making her more and more anxious with every step they took. It made her jaw clench and her muscles twitch but she kept silent as they moved. She was still in control of her own emotions. She could do this for hours. She really did not want to, but she could.

Eira stopped. More grumbling ensued and Serana nearly caught an elbow in her chest as Eira wiggled awkwardly through another pinch in the walls. Serana resisted the urge to shove her and, after a few more scrapes, Eira popped out the far side like a cork from a bottle. It gave her something to laugh about as she slipped easily through the opening. Eira looked back, glaring as Serana tried to hide her smile. It was not as though Eira was a large woman, she was just, sort of, broad. It was the sort of thing Serana should have been teasing her over.

Fortunately for Eira, the view proved much too distracting. Serana found herself staring in awe for the second time tonight, and this time it was at a scene that simply should not have existed. The tiny crack in the wall had led them to an underground shelter, a perfect, secluded haven for anyone seeking their private corner of the forest. It was all here: towering trees, grass-covered hillocks, flowers poking between broken rocks. There was even a waterfall burbling quietly in the corner to feed a placid, crystal-clear pool near the center of the cavern. The only thing missing was the sky and even it was not far away. At the exact center of the roof, shining a column of light down onto the sleepy pool below, was a hole in the ceiling large enough to brighten the entire chamber.

Tiny moths flitted about, hovering near Serana’s face as though to ask why she had come, why she was disturbing their placid sanctuary. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch them. It seemed inappropriate, somehow. She watched Eira glide down the path toward the pool far below, her cloak billowing regally as she meandered over the grassy steppes. Serana followed a good way behind. She was not about to rush the woman. Every moment they spent here was another chance for Eira to see reason and abandon this whole adventure as madness. She just had to come up with one really good, persuasive argument to keep the reading at bay. Just one day. Eira needed her rest. They could camp here, Eira could get some sleep, Serana would watch the door, and everything would work out. A Moth Priest would appear from thin air and read the scrolls for them. Then her father would appear, whack his head on a low branch, and come to his senses. They would all have a good laugh and…

Serana could not even finish the thought, not only because it was absurd but because she had no idea what they would do when this finally ended. If they were both fortunate enough to see that day, what would it bring? She had never been very good at the quiet life. Well, if she counted being asleep for a few thousand years, she was incredibly good at it, but that was not exactly what she had in mind for her retirement.

Eira reached the edge of the pool. In the center of the still water sat a little island, the shaft of light falling in a perfect ring right to illuminate a stand of old trees. It was the perfect place to ask the gods a few questions. Serana sloshed quietly through the ankle-deep pool as Eira made herself at home. She pushed her cloak back over her shoulders, absently adjusting her quiver even after setting her bow against one of the trees. Serana undid the satchel that held the Elder Scrolls and made to hand them to Eira. As the woman made her peace, looking one last time around the silent grove, Serana let her frustration get the better of her, tossing the offending parchment into the dirt and scowling. She had a long history of resenting these blasted things but only now was it reaching a high note.

“Well, at least I get to die somewhere nice,” Eira quipped as she eyed the heap of paper.

“You’re not going to die.” Serana said it so firmly she almost believed herself. But that was how it had to be. There was no story without Eira. What would happen the next time they – she – met a dragon?

Eira shook her head. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”

“You should be. You’re not allowed to die, alright? Not after I – after what we went through.” She found herself shuffling even as she fumed. “I don’t go and turn everyone I meet. You were the first. So no, you don’t get to die by a paper cut.”

“Duly noted,” she said with a chuckle.

At least Eira thought she was funny. It was not the sendoff she deserved, but it was all she could do. Even now, she could not bring herself to actually admit was going on in her head. It was not as though she could just tell Eira that she was comfortable with her. That she was so comfortable and trusting and safe with her that the thought of intimacy no longer terrified her. After everything she had been through, Eira could still make her feel safe. Warm.

With half a smile still on her face, Eira reached down and picked the first Elder Scroll off the ground. She gave Serana a cocky grin as she nudged the other two with her feet. “But, if this does end up killing me, do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Tell them I died fighting a dragon or something. I like that whole Eira the Dragonslayer idea. She’s not the kind of person who dies reading a book.”

_I’ll tell them anything you want if you come out of this alive._

Without letting Serana work up the courage to speak, Eira unrolled the first scroll. Light exploded in the hollow. The patterns Serana remembered from the last reading now scattered among the trees, chasing the benevolent moths away and leaving an ominous silence in their wake. The light seemed to pass through Eira, burning its way through her and leaving a wide-eyed husk in its wake. Unlike Dexion, Eira was silent. Serana could not even cling to her voice in the vain hope that she was still alive.

The scroll tumbled from her hands and fell to the ground, the sand beneath it glowing weirdly until the light began to fade. Eira fell to her knees, groping for the second scroll. Her eyes were still fixed on something in the distance, wide open and unseeing. Serana felt herself choking as she began fumbling with the parchment. She would never forgive herself for this. It should not have been Eira. It should have been her. It always should have been her.

More light flooded the clearing, the patterns different, the strange geometries growing stranger with every moment until Serana could no longer stare at them. She forced herself to look away. How could Eira keep going? She could not begin to imagine what she must have been going through when it was all Serana could do to watch from the sidelines. A moment later the scroll was tossed aside, its light momentarily striking Serana. She found her knees buckling under her, her arms flying in front of her eyes in a flimsy shield. That split second was enough to send her reeling.

But Eira kept going. One last scroll. One more reading. Serana watched as she searched blindly for the last scroll, her mouth open, her eyes devoid of all life. She wanted to run to Eira, push the last scroll away and save her from this. This was enough. Whatever she had learned from the first two scrolls would have to be enough. They could fill in the rest. Just as long as she made this stop.

Eira grasped dumbly at the last scroll, dragging it toward her with the slowness of a dead woman. And Serana did nothing. She stood, watching, cold and distant and disgusted with herself. It took hours for Eira to undo the clasp on the final scroll. It took days for her to lower her head and, with one sudden tug, unroll the scroll on the sand beneath her. It took less than a blink for the light to flood the room, knocking Eira to her back.

Serana was by her side before the light had faded. “Eira? Eira, can you hear me?”

She did not answer. She did not move or blink – she was barely even breathing. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, glassy and unseeing. She looked dead. She couldn’t be dead.

Serana put her hand over her eyes and tried to Heal her. Nothing happened. There was nothing wrong with her, no mortal wounds to close, no pieces of her mind to set right. She was just… gone. There but not there. It was impossible.

Had she waited too long? No, there was always a way. She looked frantically around the clearing. There was nothing around, nothing to see, no glowing herb or magic talisman that would keep Eira in this world. Even the moths had gone. It was just Serana and the foolish woman who had risked her life for her.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please wake up.”

In that instant she would have given anything for Eira to open her eyes. No price would have been too high, no god or Daedra too far beyond her reach. She would have gone anywhere, promised anything. For one of the few times in her life, she found herself praying. She did not even know who she was praying to but if any of the gods would listen, she would be theirs for the rest of her life. She went through them, name by name, until she had lost count of them.

One would have been enough. Eira seized, coughing and shuddering and pawing at her eyes in a fit. Serana heard herself laughing as she bent to hug Eira to her chest.

“The bow,” Eira coughed. “It’s in Skyrim. I know where it is.”

Who in Oblviion cared? “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” Eira wheezed against her chest. “Sorry I didn’t bring something back for you.”

At length, Serana grudgingly released her grip on Eira and let her roll over on her side. It took her a few tries to regain her feet even with Serana’s help. “I suppose I can forgive you. Can you see alright?”

“For the moment,” Eira said, blinking slowly as she looked around the cavern. “But so could Dexion. I think if I end up going blind, it won’t be for a few more days. Why? Were you worried about little old me?”

“Worried I’d have to carry you halfway across Skyrim,” Serana answered glibly. “You’re already hard enough to put up with.”

Eira sighed. “We really need to work on your bedside manner.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t carry you, I just said I didn’t want to.”

“I knew you cared.”

How much she cared was not something Serana cared to think about. There was the very real chance that Eira could end up blind in the coming days. No doubt they would be up on some impossible mountaintop and Serana would be forced to climb down, Eira clinging to her back like some kind of bear cub. And then she would be forced to find somewhere safe and quiet for the useless woman to rest while Serana went out and saved the world. The idea made her uncomfortable. That was not part of the plan. She was supposed to throw off the shackles of her parents’ bickering, give Eira an appreciative pat on the head, and the two of them would wander off into the sunset, eager to see the world. For the first time in her life, Serana was supposed to have been free.

Then along came Eira and now Serana found herself unable to leave. If Eira went blind, would she stay with her until she regained her sight? Would this become some unending journey to find her lover a cure?

Love, Serana decided, was a truly miserable thing.

“Only a little,” Serana said with a sigh. “Just enough to keep you from falling over dead.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Eira rubbed at her forehead and looked up toward the entrance. “Wait, do you hear that?”

Serana did. She felt the subtle rumbling in the air, heard the quiet sound of grass and dirt being trampled underfoot. “The ones following us,” Serana grumbled, grasping for her dagger. Eira fumbled for her bow. When she could nearly lost her balance just doing that, Serana gave her a gentle push back toward the trees.

“I can still fight,” Eira said haughtily. It was a hollow boast and they both knew it.

Serana smiled. “You’ve done your part, Eira. Let me do mine.”

She did as she was bid, moving back through the water and away from the approaching vampires. She looked frustrated and sick but at least she was listening. As Serana turned back toward the path, the first gargoyle came thundering into view, its eyes an unpleasant red, its great stone feet trampling flowers no doubt thousands of years old. It was a crime, profaning such a place with violence. The moths were probably horrified, wherever they had gone.

Serana took a deep breath and twirled her dagger. She watched as thin lines of purple traced their way down the metal, swirling around the edges. A ghostly sword appeared where once only her short length of steel had been a moment before. It could have been a trick of the light, the edges of black and violet seeming to fade with the changing light.

A smile grew on her face. If she was going to do this, she would at least put on a show worthy of the surroundings.


	23. The Very Last Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana enter Darkfall Cave in search of Auriel's Bow

Travelling by day was, without a doubt, one of the worst experiences of Eira’s life, and she was well-versed in bad experiences. Not even having her brain ripped out, scrambled up, and fried to a crisp could match the constant tortures of the blazing sun. It seemed to cut right through her thick cloak, piercing her clothing and the skin beneath beneath with a thousand burning needles. At the same time, she found the cold just as unbearable. The slightest breeze sent her into a fit of shivering and leaving her feeling like she was badly sick.

And all around her was the snow. It was not enough that the sun was trying to cook her; it had to blind her, too. With the whole world painted a stark white, nowhere was safe from the brilliant rays of the merciless sun. It was all Eira could do to keep her eyes open. She must have looked ridiculous, stooped as she was, her hood up, her arm raised in front of her face, grumbling and cursing like some crazed heretical monk.

All that kept her going was the compassion and caring nature of her more-experienced vampire companion. “It’s such a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Serana chirped from somewhere in the sea of white.

To be fair, Eira could not tell. It all looked the same to her. “How can you even see where you’re going? I don’t know how you stand it.”

“It’s not so bad.” Her maddeningly chipper voice was coming from a large, black blob beside her. “Come on, stiff upper lip. You’re missing an amazing view.”

No doubt she was. The path they had chosen wound through the mountains north of Markarth. Eira had wandered these paths only a few times during her years but had always found herself captivated by the scenery. It felt more mysterious, somehow, than the rest of Skyrim, like if you turned over the wrong rock an angry spirit would be waiting to gobble you up. The last few times she had been here, thick fog had covered the roads almost every day of her journey and she had dearly hoped to repeat the experience.

Still, Eira did her best to take it in. She raised her head, tried to more aggressively shield her eyes, and squinted furiously into the light. It really was beautiful, if somewhat painful to look at. The blinding light actually made everything look almost heavenly. The frozen lakes below glittered in the sun, both drawing her eyes and punishing them for the experience. As hard as she tried to enjoy the sights, she found it almost impossible to focus on anything for longer than a few moments. Even so, she stopped walking long enough for Serana to glide up quietly beside her, smug as could be.

“Told you so,” she gloated.

Eira tried to ignore her and focus on the view, the pain in her eyes nothing compared to the pain of dealing with Serana. But Eira knew how to survive a living with a woman better than herself. Her years with Natalie had taught her well, and the first of those lessons was knowing when she was wrong.

“You’re right,” Eira said unhappily. “It is an incredible view.”

“I’m always right.”

Of course she was. Eira kept her eyes on the quieter parts of the countryside until they were drawn away by a merciful spot of darkness. “That looks like our cave down by the lake.”

Serana peered into the distance with her. “You sound much too excited about this.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Eira asked, already walking down the path toward the sweet shelter of a lightless hole in the ground.

Serana made an exasperated sound behind her. “I think I’ve spent enough time underground, thank you.”

Eira may have been running down the path to save herself from the light of the sun, but she did spare a moment of pity for her. “It won’t be forever. I’m sure we’ll be back to roasting alive in no time.”

The promise did little to mollify the angry vampire. “I hate caves. The smell and the damp and – how could anyone willingly go crawling through them when you could be out in the open air?”

“That’s probably why we keep ending up crawling through them. People who hide Elder Scrolls seem not to visit normal places.”

She was still holding out hope that Auriel’s Bow would be in the middle of some tranquil forest, untouched by dragons or Falmer or sun-hating vampires. The odds were not exactly in their favor but, at the same time, they were about due for a quiet walk in the woods. Eira scuttled into the shadow of the cave and breathed a sigh of relief as the burning agonies of the sun were washed away. From the safety of her shade, Eira watched Serana saunter down the path. She was being deliberately slow about it, though that could have been to enjoy the view as much as to poke fun at Eira. When she finally did reach the mouth of the cave, she folded her arms and scowled for a long moment at the dark.

“I really hate caves,” she grumbled.

Eira ventured closer while remaining in the shade. “No happy memories of our first meeting?”

“Was that the time I nearly got cut in half trying to save you? Or later on when you almost ran me through for asking questions?”

The memory of that night still stung. It was hard to imagine even being angry with Serana, let alone trying to kill her. “Fair enough.”

Serana was eyeing her, laughing softly as Eira winced. “You’re right. We never do anything normal.”

“I honestly don’t think I know what normal is anymore.”

“You’re asking the wrong person, Eira. Normal for me is blood, fire, and bad parenting.”

Eira tried to remember what she had wanted before all this had begun. “I think it’s something quiet. A little house on a dirt road, a family, maybe a dog, and the most exciting thing you do all day is read a really good book. No vampires, no saving the world, no dramatic blood loss or giant monsters trying to swallow you whole.”

“Sounds lovely. Boring, but lovely.”

“I never took you for the domestic sort.”

Serana smirked. “I’m not. I just like to explore my options. But I don’t think it’s my place to decide what we do anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve spent a lot of time following me around, Eira. We’ve done a lot of crazy things trying to stop my family from destroying the world. After this, I think it will be your turn. You point and I follow.” She hesitated, smiling broadly. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

Eira shook her head. “I’d love to have another crazy person along for the ride.”

“I thought so. Just try to pick some nice places for a change.”

“I’ll do my best,” Eira promised, though she was not sure what a nice place was for two vampires out on a romantic evening.

The cave drew their attention once more as the conversation died. It looked decidedly unwelcoming even if it promised a reprieve from the sun. Eira could readily pick out several sets of tracks leading in and out of the darkness. She had seen them before and was hardly surprised to find more in a place like this. Whatever else was inside, it was sharing a space with trolls.

Serana had noticed, too. “At least two trolls. A few people, as well.”

Eira was impressed. When had she gotten so good at that? “Your father’s men?”

“Maybe. Who else would be out here?”

The tracks looked wrong for that but Eira was not about to say so. For starters, there were only two sets. Unless Harkon had come himself, Eira doubted he would just send two of his minions to deal with someone as dangerous as Serana.

“Well, maybe they all killed each other and this will be a nice, leisurely stroll to the bow.”

Serana gave her a dry look. “Optimism does not come naturally to you, does it?”

“Is there any harm in trying something new?”

She turned to Eira and gave her a long look. “Alright. Let’s have ourselves a nice, leisurely stroll through the very last cave we’ll ever have to explore.”

Eira laughed as Serana started her way into the cave. “Was that so hard?”

“Lying never is,” she retorted. “Especially when it’s to yourself.”

Serana moved along ahead of Eira, the sun fading behind them as they entered their very last cave. Even after a few moments, Eira began to see her point about fresh air. The stench of trolls was overpowering. Perhaps the two poor souls who had come here ahead of them were nothing more than well-meaning explorers intent on ridding the world of such a horrible stench. Had they succeeded, Eira would have considered them saints. Her hopes of that dimmed as they passed the first deer carcass. It was too fresh and the drag marks told the story of how it got here very clearly.

It was not long before they found who had made the footprints. Two women lay dead on their bedrolls in the center of a makeshift camp. One looked as though she was asleep, the other lay near the wall, her body showing all the signs of a trolls attentions. Eira quickly looked elsewhere. The sight of death no longer turned her stomach but this was something worse.

“What were they doing down here?” Serana wondered aloud.

Eira felt comfortable enough to guess from far outside the camp. “Researching the trolls, maybe? Hiding from the law?”

“Or seeing the world,” Serana finished.

She made an unpleasant point. They had been romanticizing the idea of wandering the world, but it came with a high price of failure. One mistake and they would end up like these women, their idealism evaporating in a cloud of red mist. Oddly, Eira was not worried, and she doubted Serana was either. It made her think twice about domestic life and the virtues of some quiet time alone with Serana, but that was all. They had killed a dragon – actually they had killed two – and if they survived the wrath of so powerful a villain as Harkon, the world had precious little it could throw at them. So long as nothing caught them by surprise, that is.

Serana looked to Eira, her face unreadable in the gloom, and moved to close the eyes of the woman who had not been torn apart. Somehow Eira got the impression she was thinking the same thing.

Without another word, the two moved on, Serana leading the way deeper into the caves. Eira kept her bow handy and her ears perked up for any hint of danger. Trolls were vicious, fast, and inhumanly strong, but they were also dumb as rocks and highly flammable. Neither of those women had been mages, Eira guessed, and certainly neither had been vampire sorceresses of legend.

The trolls had nested deep in the earth. From the looks of the walls, they had been down here a long time, lining the passages with bones and staining the walls an unpleasant red. Serana saw them first. Fire began coursing up her arms as she readied her spells. Eira settled in beside her, picking out her own targets and leveling her bow. The trolls noticed the commotion and started howling, tossing themselves about as they worked themselves up in a fine rage.

Eira shot first. Her arrow struck the first troll in the head, killing it instantly. Two more went up in smoke as Serana swept one arm in front of her in true dramatic fashion. A third burst into flame as it charged from Serana’s left just as Eira loosed her second shaft. The last, dumbfounded by the sudden outburst of violence, stood looking at the two vampires that had just invaded its home as though trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was Serana who put it out of its misery.

The cavern flickered in the dim light of burning fur and the smell of roasting troll now wafted heavily on the air. The light proved unwanted, as it further illuminated the piles of bones and bodies lining the walls, but at least the smell was pleasant. It smelled oddly like bacon.

Still, when Serana’s eyes turned to Eira, she put one hand in front of her nose. “The very last cave.”

Serana exaggerated her sigh. “No need to keep repeating it. The more you say it, the less likely it becomes. That’s how these things work, you know.”

Eira was not sure she believed that but she changed the subject anyway. “I think that’s all the trolls. We should keep an eye out further in but with any luck, you’ll get that stroll of yours after all.”

Eager enough to leave the den, Serana began making for the far end of the chamber. “You weren’t worried about a few trolls, were you?”

“Every time something tries to kill us, I like to remember the larger, angrier things we’ve had to deal with. Once you kill your first immortal dragon in a world of dead people, nothing seems so bad after that.”

They reached the end of the den and started down the next passage. Here the ground was undisturbed and Eira felt confident that they were alone at last. It was a far more pleasant experience than the last time they had crawled into a mountain together. The walls of the tunnel were nearly wide enough to drive a wagon through and Eira took advantage of it. She had failed to appreciate the extra room when they had explored that Dwemer ruin together. She would not make that mistake twice.

“You never told me how it was,” Serana said as they walked.

Eira did not need to ask what she was talking about. In fact, she had been hoping the conversation would not come up. “It was strange,” she said cautiously. “I think I’m still getting used to it.”

Serana was trying to stare through the side of her head and just read her thoughts directly. “It’s alright. You can tell me, I don’t mind. I know it takes some getting used to.”

Now there was an understatement. The knowledge that she now had to eat human beings in order to survive was something Eira would probably never be comfortable with. They had found a group of bandits hiding out in a fort near Morthal. It was on their way to Fort Dawnguard and the blind Dexion, so they had stopped in order to find Eira some dinner. Serana had picked out some poor soul and dragged him to where Eira waited outside the walls. He had been paralyzed and put in a deep sleep by one of Serana’s spells or maybe one of the potions she seemed to pull out of thin air. It did not matter to the sleeping man. Eira had stood over him as Serana showed her where to bite, how to grab him, how to pin him down if he had been awake enough to struggle. Like showing a child how to use a fork.

Eira had taken her time. She tried not to think about what she had done, about how the blood tasted as it passed over her tongue and down her throat. It nearly made her gag. That was a human being. It was one thing to kill them – that was clean and all the blood went, well, nowhere – but it had taken her a long, long time to take that first bite.

Of course Serana had noticed, just as she noticed Eira’s hesitancy now. “When I asked if you were alright – the first time, I mean – you said you were fine and you waved me away. I wanted to give you time but, well, I’m worried. I should have asked sooner. I was going to, actually.”

Eira gave her a look, seeing her chance to change the subject. “You were distracted. That mammoth –“

“Was out of its damned head,” Serana finished angrily. “How was I supposed to know that – look, I don’t… I’m sorry. Truly. I should have asked you.”

So much for running away. Eira really needed to find a better way of dealing with her emotions around Serana. She could only run so far, after all. “It’s alright. I mean it. I’ll get used to it. And I think it helps when I’m, uh, hungry.”

It really did. After the reading, Eira had found herself ravenously hungry. It became a need, an instinct, something that forced aside her human self and sent her into a frenzy. They had crept through a camp in the mountains, Serana removing the sentries as Eira stalked through the shadows, feeding like a madwoman. It was not a pleasant memory, but she had far worse ones lingering in the shadowy corners of her mind. This was just how life was, now. This was what she had to do to survive. If she wanted to keep Serana safe, this was the price. And she had done far worse than this.

Serana was still looking nervously at her. “I’ve heard rumors, you know. Of a cure.”

Eira was silent for a long moment. She was on thin ice and she knew it. Serana might have meant well by saying it but this was not something to be cured because it was not a disease. Some might see it that way, and she might even be willing to forgive Eira for saying it, but for a Daughter of Coldharbour, this was not a disease. This was not something to be cured. For Serana, it was both a badge of honor and an experience she would do anything to erase. It was a scar on her soul, on she carried proudly and would now use for greater things, even if she had never wanted it. That was why Eira could never flinch when she had to feed.

“I wouldn’t want it,” Eira said slowly. “Not just because you’d be all alone, doing Oblivion-knows-what, but because I don’t regret it. I know what you went through and what it meant to turn me. That’s not something I want to cure.”

Their footsteps were the only sound for a long while. Serana eventually turned her gaze down the path, brooding over the words. They would no doubt need to talk about it once they were through with all this and Eira would need to choose her words more carefully. This was not something she wanted to cure. This was not something she wanted to shy away from. That she accepted it in Serana meant she would need to come to terms with it herself, and not just because they had gone through so much just to get here.

Serana cocked an ear as the ground suddenly began to level off. “Do you hear that?”

Eira nodded. “Sounds like water.”

It was. As they rounded the next bend, the unmistakable roar of a vast river filled the tunnel. Another turn and they found themselves in a small hollow, the sound of water all around them. A vast trench ran cut the chamber in two and was spanned only by the most rickety excuse for a bridge Eira had ever seen. Eira walked up to it and chanced a glance over the side. It was not a pleasant sight. Far below rushed the river, almost out of sight even for the keen eyes of a vampire, and the sound of it did not do it justice. It was larger even than the echoes of it implied.

Serana peered at the bridge skeptically. “We should probably go one at a time. That thing looks like a pile of toothpicks.”

Actually, to Eira, it already looked like a pile of toothpicks, but that was beside the point. “Wait, I thought vampires couldn’t cross water. Or something.”

Serana actually glared at her. “What children’s stories have you been reading? I’ve crossed rivers with you – you’ve been there.”

Eira sighed. “Fine. Just popped into my head, that’s all.”

“Besides,” Serana said, delicately stepping onto the first plank. “We aren’t common vampires. We are –“

The bridge snapped. Serana, along with whatever she was going to say next, vanished into the chasm.

Eira did not waste a second. Without thinking, she took a deep breath, pitched herself forward, and crashed into the water far below.


	24. Important People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana learns more about her role in the prophecy from a priest of Auriel. Eira starts thinking about life after their adventure.

Serana bounced along the bottom of the river, spinning and smashing into rocks and doing her best to keep her wits about her. She had no idea which way was up and had barely enough time to gasp for air before her lungs were filled with water. There was no sound save the crashing of the rapids all around her, nothing to see save for black shapes that spun and whizzed all around her. Her hands were at her throat as she began to cough and her lungs began to burn. She was going to die like this. She was going to drown in the dark.

Whatever shred of sense she had left conjured up a spell that saved her life, or at the very least would let her die by crashing into a rock rather than drowning. The water still clawed at her lungs and tried to climb from her throat but she held it there, unwilling to give in. The spell was simple: Waterbreathing but with a twist. She did not need to breathe at all and would not need to for at least a few minutes. That would give her time – hopefully – to reach the end of this river and fall straight into the center of the earth.

The panic threatening to consume her was forced into a small box in her chest, the lid slammed shut with the promise that she would give in to it once she was safe. Once Eira pulled her out of this mess, she would fall into her arms and sob like a child. Well, probably not, but she promised the box as much and returned to the present. A great deal of effort went into righting herself with the flow of the river. She tried pulling it closer around her, shielding herself from the worst of the battering. It became a kind of game. The current spun her this way, she pushed back, her barrier of water pulling her this way and that to avoid hitting any of the rocks straight on.

She hoped Eira had not jumped in after her. The thought nearly brought the panic in her screaming out of its box, forcing her to all but sit on the lid. Eira would be fine. Even if she did jump in, that thick head of hers would keep her from suffering any real harm.

Just as her lungs began to itch and her spell wear off, she felt herself falling. For just a moment, she was thrown clear of the water, and what she saw was more confusing than the swirling dark of the river. A lake? A shrine in the corner? _Sunlight?_

The lake was real enough. Serana hit the surface with an almighty splash that would have sounded little different if she had hit solid rock instead. Her head spun, her body ached, and only through sheer desperation was she able to claw her way to the surface. Sweet, putrid, stale air rushed into her lungs as she gasped and coughed and flailed like a drowning animal. Her dignity completely abandoned her when she began dogpaddling for the shore, still coughing and gasping as she pulled herself toward dry land. She just needed a few moments. Once she was dry and safe she could wonder where she was and why it was so well-lit.

No sooner had she reached the shore than another splash echoed behind her. Serana pulled herself into the shallows, pushing a mop of wet hair from her eyes to see Eira flailing pitifully in the water just behind her. She tried to laugh but only succeeded in coughing up more water. The idiot had actually jumped in after her. Of course she had. The idiot should have been dead, not having the same protection Serana’s magic afforded her, but she had a marvelous way of surviving based on stubbornness and sheer dumb luck. The next rickety bridge they came to, she would make sure Eira went first.

Serana watched as the coughing, sputtering mop of hair bobbed toward her. Eira the lake monster, coughing up water and making thoroughly inhuman noises, somehow managed to find Serana in the shallows and allowed herself to be hauled ashore. Serana left her in a soaking, gasping heap and flopped down beside her to enjoy the cold, dry rock.

“Couldn’t just let me have fun on my own, could you?” Serana asked, still gulping for air like a fish.

“Got lonely,” Eira sputtered into the stone. She was still fighting coughing fits but at least she was alive.

Serana passed a hand across her face in a vain attempt to keep the hair from her eyes. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”

A loud groan rose from Eira’s heaving back as the coughing finally stopped. “We need a new way to cheat death,” she said, hoarse and croaking. “Drowning wasn’t much fun last time, either.”

“Look on the bright side.” Serana propped herself up on one elbow and gave the still-unhappy Eira a sultry look. “Now I’ll have to make another fire and you’ll get another chance to take off all your clothes for me.”

Eira laughed but stayed hunched over the floor, leaving Serana’s look to go unappreciated. “I take it back. We should do this all the time.”

“Exhibitionist,” said Serana.

“Lecher,” groaned Eira.

“Only when it comes to you.”

Eira laughed and began rolling onto her side. “Lucky me.”

Serana smiled and whisked some of the water from her face and hair. Now that she was not focusing on annoying Eira, she was surprised to discover how warm the cavern actually was. The light that streamed in from the ceiling – no, not streamed in but was produced from. Serana squinted and tried to feel for what sort of enchantment had turned the rocks above into a second sun. She found nothing, or, remembering the shrine in the corner, at least nothing made by mortal hands. The little dome of rock was lit by hundreds of candles but otherwise looked unadorned. The center of worship seemed to be the small stylized sun that crowned the rocks. It must have been all but forgotten down here. Whatever god it was devoted to had put a lot of effort into making the cavern comfortable for his followers. There must have been something larger here long ago, something more opulent and more deserving of such a benevolent spirit.

She lifted her arm to shield her eyes. As the water on her skin began to dry, the familiar burning of sunlight began to prickle all across her face. Perhaps benevolent was too strong a word. Any god that loved the sun so much could be no friend to vampires.

“Well,” Serana murmured, her eyes settling on something beside the dome. “That’s creepy.”

“Yeah,” Eira agreed, now lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. “It shouldn’t be doing that, should it? Where did we land?”

“I meant him.”

Eira did not appear to move at all but a moment later her hand settled near Vengeance. Trust an assassin to be discreet. “How long has he been there?”

“In general? He looks pretty old, so probably a good long while.”

“You’re delightful.”

“I think if he meant us harm, we would never have crawled out of his lake.” Serana hoisted herself up, eyeing the man as she offered a hand to Eira. “And if he does something stupid now, then I’ll be here to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

Eira rolled her eyes but accepted Serana’s help. “I guess this means we’re not making a fire?”

“Do contain your disappointment,” Serana hummed as she looked Eira over, taking a moment to Heal a nasty gash on her forehead. That thick skull of hers really was a blessing. “Although, I suppose if you really had your heart set on it, I could just get rid of him for you.”

“That’s very romantic of you.” Eira adjusted her bow and let her hand come to rest on Vengeance. She appeared to be missing all of her arrows and the dagger she normally had at her leg. That was going to be inconvenient.

“You know me,” Serana said as she began picking her way along the shore. “I wear my heart on my sleeve.”

Eira was quiet as they approached the shrine. Actually, she looked almost as uncomfortable as Serana. Too often she took Eira’s relationship with the Brotherhood as something long dead. She forgot that Vengeance was always there, a nagging reminder that Sithis never did let his favorite pets go. That was something she would do well to keep in mind, especially considering her own experience at the hands of an unkind deity. Once they were through with Auriel’s bow, perhaps it would be best to dispose of it or tie a ribbon on it and leave it to the Dawnguard. Or she could carry it herself. It would be fun having Eira teach her to shoot.

With that imagine dancing about in her head, Serana raised one hand to greet their strange, voyeuristic friend. “Our apologies for disturbing you. We mean you no harm.”

The old man proved upon closer inspection to be a very wrinkled elf with long white hair and a trusting, if somewhat unpleasant, smile. “No need for apologies. I greet you, Daughter of Coldharbour, and welcome you to my humble shrine.”

She could actually feel Eira bristling behind her. Serana’s own hair was suddenly standing on end so she could hardly blame her. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”

As the old elf smiled more broadly, Serana suddenly recognized the symbol at the heart of the shrine. “You. You’re a priest of Auriel.”

“I am. Allow me to introduce myself.”

 

What followed was the most highfalutin title Eira had ever heard. Truth be told, she was not even sure where the title ended and his name began, and after that came an even more unintelligible conversation that left her no room to ask. She recalled something about his brother – his title was so ridiculous her laughter had incurred Serana’s wrath – and something about the Falmer, but the most interesting bit had been about Serana herself. Or, at least, that was the only part Eira deigned to care about.

“So your father needs these,” Eira said, bouncing the arrows now sitting comfortably in her quiver. “And the bow. Otherwise he won’t be able to do blot out the sun.”

“And my blood,” Serana pointed out cheerfully. “But yes, you’re right. Special arrows, special bow, very special blood.”

“And we’ll find the bow –“

“At the top of a tower on top of a mountain at the end of a valley that we’ll find at the end of this, the longest cave in the world.”

Eira looked behind her unhappily. The portal the arch-priest-paladin-something-or-other had opened was now nowhere to be seen. They were here, in another cave, probably at the far end of the world, and they had nowhere to go but forward. It was the sort of dramatic realization that belonged in a story. There was no turning back. From here, they would either find the bow and glorious salvation, or they would fall, perishing in the dark and leaving the world doomed to a similar fate.

Although, if they did win, the hero was supposed to get the girl, so that was something. Eira peered ahead, past the girl she was trying to win over, and down the dark corridor they were currently creeping their way through. It was actually not nearly so bad as before. Instead of a troll’s lair, they had found bright flora eager to light their way with such colors that she was reminded of their time far below the Dwemer ruin. That had been something. She smiled as she remembered Serana’s face, her mouth falling open in awe as she first entered that strange world. That was something Eira could stand to see a few more times and it was why she had agreed to keep wandering the world with her once this was over. The way she had looked at those glowing mushroom-trees and the not-stars far overhead, it was almost like looking at someone different, someone new and fragile who had never been turned into a vampire. Someone who was never allowed to see the world except from behind the eyes of Serana, Daughter of Coldharbour, hard-bitten sorceress and a woman without weakness.

“Rather fitting for the very last cave, wouldn’t you say?” she asked cheerfully.

Serana grumbled. “It had better be the last after all this.”

“Come on, you don’t really think that.”

“I assure you, Eira, nothing in the world has me more excited than fresh air and clear skies.”

Eira laughed quietly and resisted the urge to call her bluff. “And which clear skies are you wanting to see most?”

Serana looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, once all this is over, where are we going to go? You’ve said you want to keep travelling but you haven’t said where.”

“I recall leaving that decision up to you,” Serana replied, turning her eyes back to the path.

Eira rolled her eyes. “So you’re happy with me just choosing? If I picked the darkest, foulest corner of Morrowind’s most putrid swamp, you’d follow me?”

“Fine.” Serana’s shoulder sagged as she let out a very dramatic sigh. “So long as you don’t pick the swamps or another Dwemer ruin, I would follow you. And maybe there are a few places I was hoping to see. The walking trees of Valenwood, perhaps. I’ve heard some amazing stories, if you would not mind returning.”

“I would not,” Eira admitted.

“I’ve read of places in High Rock where you have to look down to see the clouds. Is that true? And the libraries – even you would find something of interest there. The stories in those pages, Eira. Just imagine.”

She could easily imagine it, or at least she could imagine a good deal of it. It would involve Serana, a plush armchair beside a window, and the quiet rays of light on the ancient stone floor that would allow her to read to her heart’s content. Beside her would be a pile of books she had already consumed, perhaps a small table with a goblet of unusually thick red wine. Where EIra would be during all this was anyone’s guess. She imagined herself pretending to read, smiling fondly as Serana seamlessly left this world and entered the one created by the book in her hands. That would last for a few hours. After that, it was anyone’s guess. Perhaps she could pick up a hobby, like knitting scarves or something similarly domestic.

“Whatever stories you’ve heard, I’d love to see if they’re true,” Eira said, brushing idly at one of the glowing plants that lined the path. “Unless those stories involve stealing from a dragon or banishing an ancient evil.”

Serana turned and grinned. “Of course not.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Not right away.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Eira said with a weary sigh. It was never simple with Serana.

As if to prove her point, something nearby decided it was time to wake up. Serana had her dagger drawn and a spell ready even before Vengeance silently cleared its sheathe. Whatever it was began scuttling and scraping its way inside the wall, moving just ahead of them to where their path crossed another. They darted forward together just in time to see the creature drop from a hole in the wall, landing silently on the floor.

Falmer. Eira watched Serana pounce, her blade finding its skull before it could so much as scratch its head. A quick glance around the crossroads was enough to satisfy her. There were plenty more of them about judging by the holes in the walls but this one had come here alone. Serana flicked her blade and scampered down the path to check in front of them. She needed no words to convince Eira to follow her. If they were sharing these tunnels with an army of Falmer, they would be wise not to stick around long. They had made that mistake once already.

Once more they crept along in silence, Falmer dropping onto the path just in time to be murdered. Eira found she did not enjoy this part of her life. She was good at it – probably one of the best – but the constant anxiety of it was beginning to gnaw at her. She did not like knowing she was one kicked rock away from being swarmed. The Companion in her, the woman with the dashing smile and the gleaming sword, had not been getting enough attention it seemed.

That cloak-and-sword romanticism did get its chance to shine before long. The Falmer had set up camp in a massive cave nestled beneath the crashing spray of a waterfall so grand it looked more like a great curtain of mist than anything so mundane as water tumbling over a rock. When they entered the camp, more of those roach monsters came after them and, with the whole camp on alert, staying in the shadows soon became pointless. Serana went in, fire streaming from her fingertips. Eira found herself in an epic duel on top of a stone bridge, the water crashing all around her, her opponent a true monster from a child’s nightmare. The Falmer champion came at her with two curved swords, swinging and snarling, but Eira held her ground. Her final blow found the monster’s heart and sent him tumbling over the side of the bridge and down into the abyss.

It all felt very heroic, particularly when she noticed Serana watching from the end of the bridge.

With her lady’s heart surely won, Eira led the way down the next passage. There they returned to plodding silence, their eyes on the shadows, their ears cocked for any hint of movement. It lasted longer than Eira wanted. She wanted to know more about what Serana wanted to do once this was over. She clearly had plans. From the look on her face, there were a few evils she wanted to vanquish before they saw another sunrise and, as much as Eira wanted some peace and quiet, she would have dearly liked to know what names these evils went by.

Serana halted them suddenly, frost falling from the ice she had conjured in her palm. Eira saw it to. There was movement far below. As their path entered another of those grand caverns, they found themselves looking down on a vast field of grass and glowing mushrooms tall enough to form a canopy hundreds of feet overhead. After a few moments of staring at the writhing shapes far below, Serana let out a soft gasp.

“They’re deer.”

They were, and they were not just any deer. They were glowing. Their coats seemed to shine with the light of all the other plants that lived down here, so far from the light of the sun. It was breathtaking. Eira simply stared, shaking her head before she managed a soft “Wow.”

“They must have evolved down here in the dark,” Serana murmured. “How long do you think they’ve been down here? How many places like this do you think there are? Or do they live their entire lives in this one cave?”

Eira chuckled softly. “I don’t know, but judging by how well those Falmer were dug in, I’d say this place has been here a long time. Maybe the Falmer were the ones who brought them here.”

“Back when they were Snow Elves,” Serana finished. “I wonder if they brought them here long ago, back when they still had their sight.”

“You could always go back and ask your friend, What’s-His-Name,” Eira said glibly. “He seemed thrilled to have someone to talk to again.”

“What, I’m just going to ask him how his people lost their eyes? That’s the kind of question you drop after you’ve really gotten to know each other.”

“You would be friends with the last remaining Snow Elf.” Serana was already making her way down toward the grassy floor but was close enough to hear Eira’s mutterings. “You could write a book about it. Any theories right now? Snap transformation or thousands of years of living under a rock?”

“Oh, I have plenty of theories. I was thinking a toxin – maybe something in the water down here – or a virus that rendered them all blind and feral. You know, something uniform and unpleasant that could have affected the entire species.” Serana turned as she reached the end of the path, her voice perfectly pleasant and conversational, like this was the most normal thing in the world to be discussing. “Or someone went to every individual person and popped their eyes out with a spoon.”

She made a lovely scooping motion and an even more wonderful sound to go with it. Eira shook her head. “You’re such a joy to talk to.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

Eira failed to hide her grin but did put some distance between herself and Serana as they started walking. The mushroom stalks were wider than the oldest trees in Skyrim. They actually reminded Eira of her time in Valenwood. As she wandered around the side of one, she let her fingers brush the side, watching in girlish glee as the light intensified wherever she touched.

“So, does this count as taking you somewhere nice?”

Serana laughed from the other side of the stalk. “Yes, I think it does.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Next time I’ll try to make it somewhere with fewer Falmer.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Serana said as she came back into view. “But I love the idea. Just you and me, miles underground with no one to hear us?”

Eira shrugged. “I thought I’d mix things up a little.”

She did have a point though. Despite the occasional breath-stealing wonder, they did spend far too much time away from the benevolent and painful light of the sun. There was too much to see above ground, and that was to say nothing of the smell. Spend enough time in the darkest corners of the world and everything else started to smell like roses.

“Alright,” Eira said, following the path the deer had taken and hoping that it would soon lead them back to the world above. “Next time, just you and me, somewhere with a little sunlight, with no one around to hear us.”

Serana smiled and quietly repeated the promise back to Eira. “Next time.”


	25. Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira finally gives in

It had been hours since they had passed those strange deer and the giant mushrooms. The tunnels had quickly returned to their musty, dreary selves, albeit with the strange warmness Eira had felt near Auriel’s shrine. It was actually rather pleasant. Her clothes had finally dried and she could no longer feel water sloshing around in her boots.

Serana was leading the way again, leaving Eira to lag behind with Vengeance. She had to keep reminding herself this was for the best. Serana was more than capable of handling herself if anything happened and she was certainly more prepared than Eira was with only her sword. From the sound of things, the arrows on her back were worth their weight in gold, so using them to kill something so mundane as Falmer would probably be frowned upon. That left her with only her sword and Serana had her magic. If anything tried to get the drop on them, she would just burn it to cinders before it ever got close.

No matter how many times she thought about it, it did not help. Eira wanted to be out front. She wanted to be protecting Serana, not cowering behind her. That was her job – sort of. She was supposed to be the expendable one. And if anything did happen, Serana could just Heal her back from the brink like she had done before. If anything happened to Serana, well they had already seen the extent of her own healing when they had first met.

Eira hopped a few paces closer to Serana’s side. She was not going to let that happen again. And it had been quiet for far too long. Something was about to happen. She could feel it.

Serana halted so quickly Eira nearly bumped into her. She reached for Vengeance but stopped before it was fully drawn. Serana was not moving. She was… what was she doing? It looked like she was smelling the air, testing the wind like a wolf. Eira perked up her ears. She was just smelling the air.

Eira rolled her eyes and nearly laughed aloud when she caught a whiff of whatever had so intrigued Serana. She stopped, mimicking Serana’s behavior safely out of sight. It felt ridiculous but there was something there. Something different. It took a few more deep breaths but finally she found it. She knew what it was just as Serana spun around, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fresh air!”

Serana all but flew down the passage. Eira nearly had a heart attack running after her, her mind full of images of tripwires and Falmer traps that could still be hidden in the rocks. There could be trolls or giants or Daedra hiding in the shadows. She was going to get herself killed.

“Serana!” she hissed, hoping she would slow down.

Serana vanished around the corner, a flash of black hair with a brilliant smile. “Come on!”

Eira half-ran, half-jumped down the corridor, hopping over suspicious stones and trying to look everywhere at once. This was how she was going to die, she was sure, killed by a falling rock trying to catch up with Serana. She scuttled around the next bend to find Serana already darting down the next passage. Gods, the woman was not even slowing down.

Eira groaned aloud and started running after her. “Slow down!”

She was answered with gleeful laughter. “Hurry up!”

In spite of herself, Eira grinned. The sound of her laughter bouncing off the walls of the cave was nothing short of musical. She did not get to laugh often enough, not like this. It was a sound Eira could have listened to forever.

Soon Eira was not looking at the ground any longer. She was running, just like Serana was running somewhere far ahead. It was the stupidest thing she had ever done and she found herself grinning like an idiot as she did it. If she was going to die here, she was going to do it with a smile on her face and Serana’s laughter in her ears. There could be no finer way, though there were a few things she wanted to do before she went.

The air soon became intoxicating. The smell of fresh pine, of grass and wind and snow all merging as one had her grinning as she ran. It had been too long. They had been in too many caves. After all her time underground, Serana certainly deserved some time in the open air.

Eira rounded another bend to find sunlight. She was nearly there. As she passed through the door, she saw they were at the bottom of a pit, the path spiraling up along the wall and into the sky far above. Eira shielded her eyes. Serana was up there somewhere. She caught sight of a fluttering cloak nearing the top of the path.

“Serana?”

More laughter – Eira had never heard her so happy. “Come on!”

Up and up Eira climbed. Even as she chased after Serana, Eira could not help but notice the sky. Streaks of bright orange and yellow had just begun to chase away the dark, only now beginning to outshine the sea of stars. The sun would barely be peeking over the horizon now. She had only ever seen sunrises like this in the mountains. They had always been beautiful. As she climbed higher, she could start to see the treetops rising all around them, then the white-capped peaks of distant mountains. Where had the portal sent them? How far from home had they gone?

Serana stood at the end of the path, her figure lit by the glow of the rising sun. The trees cast long shadows all around her, making the world look new. Eira walked quietly up beside her and did her best not to gape at the sight that lay before them. They were in paradise. The valley below was so green it should have come from a painting, the gentle swaying of the trees the only sign that it was real. The morning light painted everything from the tops of the trees to the distant mountain peaks with the same golden glow. It could not have been real.

There was just so much out there. The pine trees raced down the hill where Eira now stood, bunching up and turning into a vast forest that stretched all the way to the mountains far to the east. That same forest wound to the south, passing under cliffs covered in ice and snow that dangled all the way to the forest floor. There were frozen lakes, brilliant rivers, and icefalls that appeared so dazzling in the morning light Eira could not look at them for more than a moment.

And there, far to the north, was the tower. It looked as though it had been carved right out of the mountainside, its spires stretching with the peaks, its arches catching the morning rays as though in reverence of Auriel. It was the most amazing thing Eira had ever seen.

Well, almost. Serana’s laugh, the joyful one Eira wanted to listen to forever, carried on the morning air. Even this place could not outshine her. Eira watched as she shook her head, a few strands of loose hair falling away from where she had tucked them behind her ear. She would have given anything to hear that laugh. She knew she would never get to hear it enough in her life, no matter how long she lived, just like she would never get to see her smile enough. She would never have enough time with her.

It was probably the wrong moment. There were a thousand other things she should have been doing. The Falmer could have been watching them. Her father’s men could have been chasing them. There was something Eira should have said before it happened.

She ignored it all. When Serana turned to face her, when more of that hair escaped and fell over her eyes, Eira did what she should have done so very long ago. She took the last few steps, pushed her hair from her eyes, and kissed her.

The moment their lips met, nothing else in the world mattered. For the first time in so many years, Eira lost herself in the moment. It was just the two of them. The feel of Serana’s hair between her fingers, the taste of her lips, the way her hands clutched at her side. This was her entire world. This was the way it always should have been. For as long as they kissed, Eira was weightless. She was happy, she was peaceful, and she was safe.

When she finally did pull away and Serana’s eyes settled on hers, she knew she was the luckiest woman in the world.

Serana’s hands settled on Eira’s hips, her fingers hooking into her belt. “Took you long enough,” she whispered.

Eira beamed. “Gods, I hate you.”

Serana laughed with her and Eira felt herself start to float away again. “That’s just too bad for you, Eira, because I’m really very fond of you, and I think I want you around for a very long time.”

“I think I can live with that.”

Serana’s eyes lit up. She put her arms around Eira’s shoulders and snaked her fingers along her neck, pulling Eira in until she could all but taste her. “But,” she murmured, her lips a hair’s breadth from Eira’s. “You made me wait. I am going to make you pay for that.”

Eira smiled and tried to steal another kiss but Serana simply wasn’t there. She was already backing away, her eyes promising things Eira never knew she wanted. She felt herself grinning like an idiot, plodding down the hill after her like she was nothing more than a pet on a leash, and she could not have been happier. This was what she had wanted. She was in love again. She was alive again.

As they crossed the rivers and walked through the valleys between them and Auriel’s bow, the joy of that one moment never left her. It was something Eira never thought she would feel again. Once this was over, there would be someone waiting for her. She would have something to go home to.


	26. Auriel's Bow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana explore the Forgotten Vale

Serana climbed the stairs reverently, gingerly running one hand along the carvings that lined the wall. The tower they had seen carved into the side of the mountain now loomed ominously overhead, imposing and beautiful. It certainly had an air of dread about it but in the morning light, exploring the grandiose courtyard with its fountains and ancient murals, Serana found it more wonderful than frightening.

Then again, she was in a very good mood. Eira scampered up the steps toward the main doorway, oblivious to the untold history these stones had witnessed in their time. Serana did not hide her smile as the woman raced by. She was doing her best not to trip over her own feet now that Eira had finally gotten up the courage to kiss her, but sometimes that was easier said than done. She was happy – really, truly happy. She had half a mind to just catch Eira by the hair and drag her somewhere quiet. It would only have been fair. Saving the world should have been something they could put off for at least a few hundred years. Besides, this had been part of the plan. If she went and hid, her father would not have been able to complete the prophecy. And, if she happened to bring someone with her, someone to keep her safe, well that was just common sense, wasn’t it?

Eira gave the ornate door a shove. Metal creaked and squealed as the sun sparkled off the incensed golden carvings. They were not accustomed to being so callously shouldered aside. Eira did not care. She peered through the crack she had opened, hesitated, and pushed even harder. At least one of them was staying focused.

She was through the door in a flash, Serana sauntering in behind her. The woman was right to be so energetic. The sooner they got through this, the sooner they could go find that quiet corner of the world.

The tower atrium would have been breathtaking in its day. More reliefs, these ones in bronze, covered the stone pillars that circled the room, and Serana found herself staring at the grand fountain at the center of the room. All of this would have been enough to capture her imagination had the room been entirely normal. Her breath steamed the air in front of her as Serana folded her arms. The room was decidedly not normal. Eira half-slid, half-wobbled across the stone until she collided with a nearby pillar and Serana found herself tensing as her own boots began to slide. Everything was covered in a thin sheet of ice. It clung to the pillars, coated the floors, held the waters of the fountain in midair, and even hung from the ceiling in thin, glittering sheets. The unnatural cold that filled the air seemed to turn the very air to frost.

But the worst by far were the Falmer. There were dozens of them, scattered in every corner and in every conceivable state of distress, all perfectly frozen in time. Some held swords mid-swing, some lunged with their arms outstretched, some were scrambling toward the door, but every one was screaming. Every mouth was open, their screams cut off by that same, all-consuming ice.

“And I thought the Soul Cairn was creepy,” Eira muttered.

Serana had to agree. “What do you think happened here?”

“Something bad.” Eira padded carefully over to one of those giant roach monsters, its pincers exaggerated by the ice. “Something I’m glad we missed. Could a mage do something this?”

“A very powerful one, yes,” Serana said as she glided toward the fountain. “Or maybe one with a lot of help. We need to be careful.”

“I don’t suppose they’ll be friendly.”

“That would be too easy.” Serana would have loved to believe otherwise. According to their Snow Elf friend, Auriel’s bow would be guarded by a misguided zealot that had taken control of the Falmer. Seeing them all frozen like this gave her hope that perhaps he, too, was frozen.

Serana knew better. The sort of luck they had did wonders for keeping them alive, but it was not good enough to keep them out of harm’s way for more than five minutes.

The atrium was topped by a glass dome. Through the frosted panes, Serana could see the tower stretching up above them, a spiral staircase that went up and up to the top of the mountain far above. It was going to be a very long climb. Eira had skated to one of the antechambers and was waving her over. Serana was not exactly sure what that look meant but she doubted it was good. She made her way to the door without falling down and followed Eira’s gesture.

“Check out that big bastard.”

Through the door, standing between them and the first flight of stairs, was a giant. Just like all the Falmer, it had been frozen in the middle of its rampage, the face stuck in a permanent mask of rage. It was easily fivefold Serana’s height and wielded a stout pine tree as a club. The ice had caught it just as it was destroying a particularly offensive pillar, the stones coming down in a spray of rubble now connected by a vast web of icy threads. The same threads caught the club as it splintered and formed what should have been a work of fine art. Instead, Serana found herself sticking to the wall as she made for the stairs.

“Let’s just get the bow and get out of here.”

Eira gave her a look as she wobbled across the room. “Never thought I’d see you shy away from a fight.”

“It wouldn’t be a fight,” Serana countered petulantly. “It would be a few moments of trying to hold a ward in place followed by an eternity trapped in the ice.”

Eira was shaking her head and smiling. “it’s just nice to know you have some sense up there.”

“I have plenty of sense. I never pick a fight I can’t win.”

Serana reached the stairs and helped pull Eira to the banister. She waited for the woman to argue but Eira seemed content to hold her tongue. That was for the best. Eira did not need to know that, beneath all the bluster, Serana was being more careful because she now had a very good reason to stay alive. She had plans, she had a future, and she was not about to let one good fight mess all that up.

If she did have anything to say about it, Eira was soon far too distracted to make a fuss. The stairs were coated in ice so badly that they more closely resembled a frozen river, with all the strange bumps and odd slants that one would expect from a flash freeze. Serana made her way to the top with only a little magical help. Eira, on the other hand, flailed hopelessly against the slick staircase before bouncing her way down to the floor below. Despite the surroundings, Serana found it unbelievably funny. Every time she seemed like she would reach the top, her legs would fly out from under her and she would slide to the bottom in a mess of limbs. By the time she finally reached the top, Serana’s sides were aching.

“Thanks,” Eira growled as she clung to the frozen banister for dear life. “You’ve been a huge help.”

“If you needed help, lamb, you could have just asked.” Serana tried to sound poised as she brought back the old pet name but the tears in her eyes and the stoop that came with laughing so hard made that impossible.

When she finally did offer Eira a hand, she did not take it, instead crawling her way onto the next landing with a complete disregard for her dignity. Serana plopped down beside her, still grinning and suffering through more fits of giggling. Eira took her time in glowering at the floor. The words she spoke were so hateful they should have melted the ice and Serana could only understand half of them. Once she finally caught her breath, Eira raised her head just enough to catch sight of the far stairs. The sound she made was completely inhuman.

Serana was giddy. “Rest up. We’ve got a long climb ahead of us.”

Much to Serana’s disappointment, Eira proved to be a fast learner, and she made the next flight without incident. That may have been because the ice was not as thick the higher they climbed. The wild and unforgiving nature of the steps below faded to a thin sheen of frost that crunched under their boots. It was a pleasant change from trying to ice skate their way to the bow but it did not ease Serana’s heart. Somewhere in this tower, something very powerful waited for them.

They found it when they reached the top. The chamber at the top of the tower had all the ornate grandeur of the atrium far below, only this one was dominated by a large throne of ice at the far end. It was almost imposing enough to make Serana ignore the rest of the nightmarish display. Dozens more of those frozen Falmer now stood in front of them, frozen with open-mouthed screams and blades in their hands. It was not a pleasant sight. All around them, thick spikes of ice grew from the walls, dropped from the ceiling, and stabbed angrily through the floor.

For all this, her eyes were still riveted on the throne, and on the Falmer that sat upon it. The Falmer with eyes. This was the Snow Elf they were looking for, the – what was the title? – Vyrthur, or something of the sort. Serana had tried to commit it all to memory but these Snow Elves seemed a prestigious lot, their titles designed solely to inflate their sense of worth.

Eira had drawn Vengeance but Serana held her back with a gesture. If this was their mage, and judging by the staff in his hand he probably was, they did not want to get into a fight with him. Not if they could help it.

He actually looked bored. One leg kicked idly at one of the icy spines surrounding the throne while he slumped over one of the chair’s armrests. It was the sort of pose a child took when forced to sit still at dinner after the conversation had dragged on far too long. Maybe he had not noticed them yet. It seemed impossible, standing in the center of the room as they were, but the creature had not so much as moved since they had arrived. Serana took a moment to probe at the staff in his hand. Mana practically streamed from the sapphire at its peak and it took little convincing for Serana to believe this is what had frozen the tower. She had to destroy it. If he got the chance to use it on them –

“At last!” The creature threw both his hands in the air, making both Eira and Serana flinch, his voice cracking like thunder in the perfect stillness. “You’ve arrived! I’ve waited so very long and here you are! Alive! At last!”

Neither of them responded to the outburst but this Vyrthur did not seem to care. A moment later he was on his feet, staff in hand, dancing gleefully from foot to foot, obviously and unashamedly insane.

“Just as I predicted,” he muttered. “I predicted and it happened and here you are. Yes. This is good. Here for the bow, of course. Right? That’s why you’re here, are you not?”

Serana felt Eira giving her a look. Was she supposed to lie? “Yes,” she answered carefully.

Vyrthur actually giggled. “So terse! You’ve come so far, why not observe the niceties? This is your moment! Your triumph! I am not here to stop you, after all. Come, come and take the bow.”

Serana would sooner have believed that down was up and the sky was red. She was not even sure where the bow was for them to take. When she did not move, Eira decided it was her turn to play along and began lowering her sword. She took a step toward the throne.

Wrong move. “NOT YOU!”

The air around her began to freeze solid. It was all Serana could do to ward off the ice long enough for Eira to throw herself behind cover, assuming that would even help. The strain of fighting against the power of that damned staff had given her a splitting headache and that was only for a moment. Just as she had told Eira, this was not a fight she could win. She had to stall. She needed a plan.

“You,” the creature whispered, its eyes back on Serana. “You are the one that matters. The prophecy is about you, Daughter of Coldharbour.”

Her head cleared at the mention of the name. This was not going to end well. “You know about the prophecy?”

“Know about it?” it giggled. “Know about it. Yes, yes I know about it. I WROTE IT!”

There was a very long silence as Serana listened to the dead man’s echoing words. “You wrote it?” she whispered.

“Yes. I wrote it. I, the Archpriest of Auriel, discovered how weak his hold on this world is. I discovered the power the bow held. I learned how to end his influence over the world. And why? Why would I do such a thing?” He whirled dramatically, unaware that Serana was not listening. She was going to kill him whatever his reason. “Because he abandoned me.”

That was when Serana truly noticed his eyes. “You’re a vampire.”

“Yes. Bitten by one of my own initiates. As soon as I was turned, I felt his light abandon me. ME!”

The ice shattered around a cluster of nearby Falmer. They whooped and snarled and scrambled over the floor, completely insane and intent on tearing Eira limb from limb. Eira saw them coming and flipped herself into a silent crouch, suddenly perfectly at home on the ice. Serana clenched her fists as they charged. She wanted to help. She wanted to reach out and keep them from ever getting close to Eira but she could not. Vyrthur had her attention. So long as he did, he would keep talking, and he would give Serana time to plan his murder.

“How did you do it?” Serana asked as the first of the Falmer rounded the corner. Eira cut it apart before it knew what was coming. They actually looked confused, scrambling about on the ice, unsure of where the trained assassin was striking from. Serana should have known she would be alright. That just left it up to her to deal with Vyrthur.

“My finest hour,” the madman chuckled gleefully. “It was difficult, warping the very fabric of the scrolls, but the prophecy was already there. I said I wrote it but that’s not quite true – a bit of ego, you understand. The scrolls are maps to here and there and everywhere in between, stories that tell everything that could ever happen. Your tale was already there. I just brought it to the surface, fished it from the depths, and made sure the right person found it.”

“My father.”

“And what a marvelous little puppet he is!” More ice shattered, more Falmer came hurtling across the room in search of Eira. She was still dealing with the last of Vyrhtur’s first attack. She needed help. “He dances so well to the music I play!”

And for that, Vyrthur would die in agony. Serana forced her voice to stay cool and level. “You wanted revenge. That’s all this was. You wanted revenge on a god.”

“Why not? With your blood, I could have it. With Auriel’s bow –“ Vyrthur turned to gesture grandly at a chamber behind the throne.

It was the opening Serana needed. She pulled all the fire from the air, all the heat of her rage, and bid it to fly from her fingertips. The bolt of orange sought the crystal like a beacon. Vyrthur had not even finished pointing when the fire struck his precious staff.

The explosion knocked them all flat. The throne shattered and Vyrthur went flying with a resounding yelp that warmed Serana’s heart. Eira was thrown flat, skidding across the ground and nearly impaling herself on one of the nearby spikes. Serana weathered the blast with a thick ward and thicker skin. She was furious – beyond furious, actually. Only the cracking of stone overhead distracted her from the thought of killing the man who had torn her family apart.

Thick chunks of rock began falling as the dome collapsed, its sides expanding in a great sigh as the ceiling began to fall in. Serana threw herself back toward the door and tried to ward Eira against the falling rock. It was not much but it might be enough to keep her from being crushed. As the rubble rained down, the pillars began to follow suit, pushed toward the chamber walls by the strength of the blast. Serana watched frozen Falmer explode as they were struck by the debris. It was a grotesque scene. Unable to save themselves, the monsters were crushed, bowled over, or blown apart by flying rocks. As the sunlight burst through the broken dome, Serana watched as one was dragged over the edge of the tower and off into the empty air.

The worst of the hail done, Serana vaulted over the broken ground to where Eira had collapsed. The tower shuddered in protest as one enormous piece of the dome slammed through the floor, opening a large hole to the chambers below. For a moment, it felt as though the floor would cave in completely, the stone warping and groaning like a ship on rough seas, but the moment passed without them plunging to their deaths.

Serana skidded to Eira’s side just as she began tossing rubble from the pile. She looked bruised and battered but at least she was still alive. Serana pushed some of the larger pieces from Eira’s body and began hauling her to her feet.

“Come on, that bastard is still out there.” Serana reached under Eira’s arm and started hoisting her to her feet.

Eira let out a pained gasp. “Sorry, ceiling fell on my head. Be right with you.”

All of Eira’s weight suddenly landed on Serana’s shoulder, carrying them both to the ground. Serana rolled her over to find a nasty gash on her forehead as well as what looked like a broken leg. Not now. This could not be happening now. Serana looked back toward where the throne had been. The priest was nowhere to be seen. Had he fled? They were on top of a mountain, where could he possibly go?

Eira growled and dug her fingers into Serana’s back but did not scream as she healed her leg. “Come on, you’re alright. This is nothing. You’ve been through worse than this.”

“You’re not going to kiss it and make it better?” Eira said through gritted teeth as Serana finished setting her leg.

She moved her hand over Eira’s eyes and finished healing the wound in her head. Part of her wanted to make a joke or say something inappropriate. The rest of her was furious. “Get up, Eira! I’m not letting him get away. Come on, get up!”

Once more she pulled Eira to her feet, ignoring the look Eira gave her. She would deal with it later. Nothing mattered right now. Nothing but killing the bastard that had put her through all this.

With the dome destroyed, Serana could finally see how high they had really climbed. Mountain peaks were all around them, impossibly far below and often obscured by clouds. They were high enough that Serana could probably have reached up and touched the sky. The sound of stone tumbling down the mountain seemed impossibly far away, nearly drowned out by the whistling of the wind.

All that remained of the chamber was a balcony that had been obscured by the throne until Serana had destroyed it. Near the edge of the tower there was a walkway that extended out into the blue, jutting over the edge of the tower in a way that must have been ceremonial. She ignored the golden glow coming from a small shrine. She ignored how much closer it was than the walkway, ignored what was very clearly a golden bow at the heart of the shrine. She did not want Auriel’s bow. She wanted revenge.

Vyrthur made the mistake of staggering into view just as Serana began stalking toward the balcony. He looked dazed and furious and was still clutching the staff even though half of it no longer existed. When he caught sight of Serana, he tried to throw something that resembled a fireball at her. Either he was a pathetically weak mage or he was an excellent actor. Serana dissolved it before it even left his hand. He stared dumbly for a moment before trying again. His expression soon turned to terror as Serana got closer. With his magic failing and his staff gone, he turned and ran.

Only there was nowhere to go. He ran along the balcony, to the very edge of the walkway, and found himself trapped. Eira approached from one side with Vengeance, Serana from the other. Vyrthur turned to face Serana when Eira made it obvious she was just there to keep him from escaping.

“You,” Serana hissed. “You took my family from me.”

Vyrthur tried to back away but stumbled as he neared the edge. Serana saw him teeter and reached out, grasping the air around him and hauling him back to earth. He staggered and fell to the stone as the wind slammed into his back. Serana was far enough away that he had time to regain his feet before she arrived.

“You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know how much I’ve sacrificed to be here! Do you know who I am? Do you even know who you are? Your blood –“

Serana was upon him. She batted the knife from his hand and seized him by the throat. She was blind with rage. This creature had taken everything from her. He had to die.

With one hand, she lifted him from the ground. His feet kicked and his eyes bulged as he grasped feebly at her arm. “My blood? What was that? You want my blood? That’s too bad. I plan on keeping it.”

Vyrthur began to gurgle as he tried to scream. Serana shook him until the noise grew shrill.

“Let’s see if you blood has any special powers.”

Frost coursed down her arm as Serana cast her spell. The gurgling stopped as ice closed his throat and began to flood his veins. Serana pushed harder, willing the ice to flow to his heart, his brain, everything that made him who he was. His eyes bulged. His legs began to spasm. His fingers clawed more frantically.

With one last heave, Serana formed the largest ice spike she could conjure, shoved it through his chest, and sent him tumbling into the air.

Her vision started to clear as she watched the body tumble. She heard her own breathing growing louder as the sound of her pounding heart left her ears. What had she just done?

Eira was beside her. “Gods above,” Serana heard her whisper.

“I…” she could not finish the thought. The weight of it all came crashing down on her. This was too much. She had been so angry that she had lost control of herself.

And Eira. Eira had nearly been killed and she had just pushed her away. She could still be hurt. She could –

“Hey, come on, stay with me.” Eira was suddenly beside her, holding her up as Serana tried to fall to her knees.

Her own voice sounded pitiful. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“That’s alright. You’re alright.” Eira sat down slowly, helping Serana down with her as her knees gave out. Gods, that was infuriating. She leaned against Eira’s shoulder and swore up and down it would only be for a moment. This was not supposed to happen. Not to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I’ve been there, remember?”

Serana shook her head, still unwilling to lift it from Eira’s shoulder. “That was different.”

“Was it? He took the only family I had. Do you have any idea what I wanted to do to him? If you weren’t there to help me, I don’t know what would have happened.” Eira gave her a gentle nudge, placing her forehead against Serana’s. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there to pick up the pieces once it was over.”

“It’s not the same,” Serana insisted, pulling her head away and trying to stagger to her feet. Eira would not understand. It was different because it was happening to her. It was not supposed to happen to her. She was supposed to be the unshakable one, always in control, always ready for anything. She was not supposed to fall into Eira’s arms like a helpless child. Eira was not supposed to be the one saving her.

Eira stood with her. “I understand why you did it. It was brutal, but I understand. And you need to let that go. It’s done, and you did what you had to do.”

Serana nodded, looking anywhere but at the infuriating woman beside her. She was always so solid, no matter what, while Serana was constantly falling apart. Eira deserved better than that. And if Serana did not get a hold of herself, she would never hear the end of all the times Eira had swooped in to save her.

“Alright.” Serana turned toward Eira with a sheepish smile. “Thanks. And sorry. About, well, that. Are you alright?”

Eira chuckled and flexed her leg, apparently proud of her popping joints. “Good as new.”

“I see the blow to the head did more damage than I thought.”

She pouted. “Well, it’s not like I was using it anyway. Come on, let’s go see this bow. Being up this high is starting to make me sick.”

Serana found it difficult to argue. The view was breathtaking but it was a long, long way down.

The bow was about as picturesque as Serana had imagined. That it seemed to float in midair was a something she had not expected, but neither was she terribly surprised. They had gone through hell just getting here. The least Auriel could do was make their prize look appealing. Eira had stopped near the edge of the rubble pile that had once been the great dome and regarded the weapon with folded arms. Serana padded up beside her and joined her in silent contemplation.

“Too bad we’re going to chuck it in the ocean,” Eira said mournfully.

Serana shook her head. “We could probably just toss it off the tower. I doubt anyone would find it. Maybe there’s a way to just trade it back to Auriel, get something out of this whole mess.”

“That’s not a bad thought. Two vampires trading favors with the sun god? What could go wrong?”

The sun seemed to shine a little brighter at that, prompting a scowl from Serana. She refused to reach for her hood. “I suppose we could hold onto it. We’re supposed to be able to touch it, right?”

“Don’t look at me. You talked to that priest-paladin-something, not me.”

“It’s a shame he’s not here.” Serana cast another glance around the rubble in search of the missing elf. “He could open up another one of those portals for us. I get the feeling it will be a long walk back.”

Eira chuckled. “You won’t hear me complaining. I got a bad feeling from him. I’d just as soon let him stay in that cave. Besides, I don’t think he’d like the idea of us leaving his precious bow for the fishes.”

Serana grunted but said nothing. One of them should have been taking the bow. They were wasting time, loitering around like this, and every moment was another chance for her father to do something terrible. He could be breaking down the door to her mother’s study right now. He could have found another Daughter of Coldharbour somewhere in the world. He could have been doing any number of horrible things. After their little scrap in the Glade of the Ancestor Moths, Serana was sure her father had agents following them. Surely they had lost them after they had both fallen in that damned river, but that did not change the fact that they were being hunted.

Eira was giving her a look. “Do you want to do the honors?”

To her own surprise, she did not. “I don’t know. I was expecting something… shinier.”

“Well, we could always go find a shinier bow if that would make you happy.”

“No, no, this one is fine. I just feel let down. You go ahead. You’ve earned it. You are the archer, after all. Take it as my gift to you.”

Eira still did not move. “Are you sure?”

“The power to blot out the sun is not something I would entrust to anyone else,” Serana said quietly. She sniffed a moment later. “You’ve already got Vengeance, right? I know you can handle carrying something like this.”

It had been meant as a way of stopping the conversation. Of course every word was true and she could think of no finer woman to carry the bow, but she had really just wanted Eira to be silent. Eira was the worrying sort. She would be wondering if Serana was alright.

And she would want to talk about it. “Serana –“

“We’re wasting time,” Serana said, unwilling to let her finish. “We need to take the bow. We need to find a place to seal it away. And we… we need to kill Harkon.”

Eira turned to face her. “No one’s saying that.”

“As long as he’s alive, he will be hunting us. We will never be safe – you will never be safe, so long as he is alive. He will never stop searching for the bow. Or for me.” Serana pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “We have to. It’s the only way.”

“I’m not planning on killing your father.”

“Eira, there is no one in the world I respect more than you but so help me, if you tell me there is a way to fix this without his death…”

She trailed off, staring bleakly at Auriel’s bow as it slowly turned on its pedestal, completely innocent of all the pain it had caused her family. It should not have been like this. Certainly Eira should not have been caught up in it. She should have just left that night. With Natalie put to rest, she could have walked away. She could have done something with her life. She could have been someone normal.

And Serana would be left to face her father alone. At least that way she would have been able to scream about it, maybe punch a few holes in the wall or toss a few more Falmer off a cliff. Her father was gone. Harkon needed to die. That was all there was to it.

Eira’s hand settled on her arm. “If you don’t want to be there –“

“I don’t need to be sheltered from this, Eira.” She pulled her arm from Eira’s grasp more forcefully than she intended. Gods, what was wrong with her? Eira was just trying to help. “He’s not my father anymore. I’m going to see this through with or without your help. Someone needs to stop him and I’m the only one who can.”

Eira’s hand fell away but she lingered beside her for a moment longer. “You know I’ll be there with you.”

Serana nodded. Of course she would. That was who she was. It was part of why Serana was so mad for her.

Eira, wonderful and selfless oaf that she was, started walking to retrieve the bow. Serana stayed where she was and sulked. This was not how it was supposed to be. Of course, she was not supposed to be considering murdering her family in order to save the world, but here she was. That was just the way of the world. Killing Vyrthur, as satisfying as it had been, did not change anything. The prophecy was still here, just as her father was still here, and there was nothing Serana could do to hide from it any longer.

Part of her wanted to listen to Eira. She wanted to believe her father was still alive. She wanted to believe that, with Vyrthur dead and the bow gone, her father would slowly begin to heal. That was how it would go in the stories. She would say a heartfelt goodbye to Eira and promise to return when all was well and they were safe. Then she would return to her father’s side. She would save her mother from the Soul Cairn. They would be a family again.

She wished it were so easy. But this was how it had to be. Harkon had started this. He would need to die in order to make it right. Serana watched as Eira gingerly cradled the bow, removing it from its pedestal and testing it the weight of it. Already it looked natural, like the damned thing had been waiting for her all along. She smiled at that. She wondered how often this sort of thing happened to Eira. There was certainly something strange about her. The way she carried Vengeance as though it were nothing. No normal woman could do that.

No normal woman would catch a vampire as she fell, either. No normal woman would work with the Dark Brotherhood and the Companions in one lifetime and certainly no one would live long enough to leave both behind. Eira was not a normal person.

But maybe that was just because Serana demanded the woman she love be more than normal.

_Crunch._

Boots on the ice behind her. Serana spun, fire in both hands.

Something struck her in the gut. There was a horrible sound and – blood. That was her blood. On her hands and - and the knife. She tried to make a sound but nothing came out. The knife twisted. More blood.

Serana heard Eira scream as she fell. Eira. _I'm so sorry._


	27. One Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira must choose between Auriel's bow and Serana's life

Eira watched as Serana fell to the ground, her hands clutching the gaping wound in her stomach. She didn’t even cry out as she fell. She just stared at her hands.

The man standing over her smiled. Then Eira did scream. She howled, the sound of tearing from her throat in an inhuman shriek of rage. The man, clad all in black, had barely enough time to draw his own sword before Eira was on him. There was no finesse in Eira’s strikes. She hammered at him like she was breaking stone, pounding away at his guard and driving him back in great, leaping strides. He was infuriatingly quick, his blade landing on Eira’s arms and shoulders in strikes she did not feel. It just made her hit him harder.

He fought like an assassin. Like one of the Brotherhood. Eira had fought them before. She knew how to kill them. She hammered away at his guard, driving him back and forcing him to leave himself open. She snarled as she slid Vengeance along his arm, tearing it open and leaving a ribbon of bright red in its wake. She had him. She could beat him. He could not keep dancing. She would kill him for what he did, tear him apart limb from limb.

She pressed him harder, swung faster. He was on his heels. He backed away too quickly, stumbling over a piece of rubble. She had him. It would not be enough to kill him but it would wound him. Just a little longer. She had him.

Serana screamed. Eira froze. She had never heard her in so much pain. She was crying. What was she doing? She should have been saving her. She was going to die if –

“Oh, I yield,” the man cackled as he backed away. “Mercy. You. You are very good. They warned me about you but even they did not do you justice. I applaud –“

“Stop it!” Eira snapped. She moved between the man and Serana, Vengeance still leveled at him. “Why? Why the fuck did you do this?”

“Can’t you guess? Come now, entertain me, indulge me, you’ve got all the time in the world.”

Serana screamed again, her sobbing tearing at Eira so badly she nearly fell apart. She had to save her. She had to do something.

The man frowned. “Well, perhaps not so much time after all.”

So that was it. That was his game. “What do you want?” Eira growled.

“The bow.”

Eira nearly tried to kill him again. He must have been working for Harkon. The snide little bastard must have been hiding in the shadows, waiting for them to do the dirty work so he could swoop in and steal the bow out from under them. Gods, she wanted to cut him apart piece by bloody piece.

“Take it.”

It was not even a question. Eira would have traded anything for Serana’s life. She took the bow from her shoulder and threw it to him, taking a sick satisfaction in listening to it clatter off the ground.

He grinned, bending lazily to pick up the bow. “You really should be more civil, you know. I can take all the time I want.”

Eira was fighting back tears of rage as she listened to Serana cling to life behind her. She couldn’t even turn around to Heal her, not without exposing her back to this bastard. She had no doubt that would be the end of them both.

“And the arrows, please.” As Eira reached to throw the quiver to the ground the man barked “And I don’t advise throwing them or I will force you to watch as I pick them up one by one.”

Her teeth ground, her knuckles turned white, but Eira did as she was told. She walked halfway to the man, placed the quiver on the ground, and backed away, retreating back to kneel beside Serana.

She was in so much pain. Eira did not even need to look. She could feel it rolling off of her in waves. She placed one hand on Serana’s stomach – oh, Gods, there was so much blood – and started to Heal. Just a little. Just enough to keep her alive. It had to be enough to keep her alive.

Serana’s fingers dug into Eira’s arm. She heard another gasp, another choking sob. “Eira. Eira, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The man was still smiling as he hoisted the quiver over his shoulder. Eira did not take her eyes off him. “It’s going to be alright. Just hold on. Please. Can you do that for me?”

“I – I’m sorry. I didn’t – please. It hurts.”

“I know it does. I know.” Eira watched the man circle them, his eyes gleaming. Eira bared her teeth as he passed. “You’ve got what you want, now fuck off.”

“Not very polite of you, seeing as I’ve let you save your friend.”

“I don’t concern myself with manners,” Eira said, hiding a wince as Serana clawed at her arm. “Not when I’m talking to a dead man. Run and hide. Take your prize and leave. I will find you. Wherever you go, I swear to every god there is, I will be there when you heart stops beating. No one – no god, no king, no one – will keep you safe from me.”

The man cocked his head and smiled. She was going to make him suffer for this. No power in heaven could compel her to return to the Brotherhood, but she would go back if it meant he would suffer. She would deliver him to Astrid, alive, and offer her anything if it meant watching this man spend every day for the rest of his life in unimaginable pain.

“Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” The man backed away toward the shrine that had housed Auriel’s bow. A portal sprung up to meet him, the same kind of portal that had brought them here in the first place. How had he done that? “Farewell, Eira. Oh, and do tell Serana that her father sends his regards.”

The portal snapped closed and Eira dropped Vengeance. She put both hands to Serana’s stomach and tried to knit it back together. It was horrible. There was blood everywhere. Her hands were covered in it and there was more on her arms and on the ground. How could she still be alive?

“Come on,” Eira hissed as her eyes began to sting. “You can’t die here. Not now. Not like this.”

Serana coughed. Blood was running from her mouth now. Tears streaked her face but they seemed to no longer be falling. She was nodding off. Her head began to loll.

Eira pushed harder. “Come on! I can’t lose you! You can’t make me go through this again, do you hear me? You can’t. You have to come back.”

She did not hear her. Serana blinked slowly, her head settling back against the stone. Eira felt the wound closing under her hands. The bleeding was stopping. It had to be stopping. Even if she could not tell. It had to stop. She had to be getting better.

Serana did not move. She had stopped breathing. Eira felt her limbs begin to ache. Her head felt like it was splitting open. She felt like she was going to be sick. She was too late. She was too weak. She was too weak and pathetic and she was going to lose her. Serana was going to die. Just like Natalie. And it was all her fault. Again. She had been too slow.

It should have been her. It always should have been her.

Her vision went black and the next thing she felt was the crack of cold stone against her cheek. Everything was a blur of black and white. Serana lay next to her, unmoving, silent. She had said she was sorry. That was wrong. She had nothing to be sorry for. She had saved her. Had Eira ever told her that? She should have. For all their damned bickering and dancing around the point, Eira should have said it at least once. Without her, she would be dead, and she would have been happy about it.

She managed to lift her arm and place it the wound. She could not even tell if it was still there. Serana would probably have a nasty scar once she woke up. Eira would never hear the end of it. _I could have done better with my eyes closed,_ Serana would tell her. _I could have healed this up, cut you open again, and still been able to save your life without even breaking a sweat._

It was the truth. She had brought Eira back from the dead once before. Just another reason it should have been Eira lying on the ground instead of her. Serana could have stopped this. She could have saved her.

Not like Eira. “Please,” she whispered, her words slurred from exhaustion. “You’re going to wake up. You have to.”

Nothing happened. Serana was going to die and it was all because of her. She was not going to wake up. Eira felt her eyes closing as darkness began to take her. It was all her fault. She couldn’t even tell her she was sorry.

 

Serana breathed.

She coughed and gasped and tried to hack up a lung but she breathed. Eira felt the world rush back to her as she watched Serana struggle for air. She hadn’t been too late. She was still alive. Serana rolled onto her arm and curled around the wound in her stomach with a long groan. The hole in her stomach had been mended but Eira had not been able to do anything about all the blood. It made Serana look dead. Well, more dead than she already was.

Eira was overjoyed enough to push herself closer to Serana. “See? Not as fun as it looks, is it?”

Serana looked up, her watering eyes meeting Eira’s, and she actually smiled. As Eira edged closer, she let herself fall, rolling over on top of Eira and rather unkindly pinning her arm to the floor. She didn’t say anything, just hummed and laughed and started kissing her. Eira closed her eyes and tried not to fall asleep even as Serana thanked her so sweetly for saving her life. Lying like this, and being as tired as she was, it was almost possible to imagine they were somewhere else.

When Serana’s lips left hers, Eira kept her eyes closed, preferring her imagined world. “I’m starting to think you enjoyed that,” she murmured.

“I’m just glad you muddled through without me.” Serana settled against Eira’s shoulder, draping one arm across her chest and sighing. “But you did save me. I have to thank you for that somehow.”

Eira managed a low chuckle but nothing else. She was too exhausted for banter.

Exhausted did not even begin to describe it. As much as she wanted to stay in that imagined world with Serana, the real world would not be ignored. They had failed. They had lost Auriel’s bow. Everything they had been fighting for, the race against her father and his minions, all the sneaking around his home and finding her mother and fighting dragons, all of it had been for nothing.

“He took the bow,” Serana said quietly. It was not a question.

Eira nodded. Even knowing what it meant, she would have done it again.

Serana seemed to grow heavier. “You should have let me die.”

“You know I couldn’t do that.”

“It would have been right.” Serana looked toward where the shrine where the bow had been hidden. “My father will have it soon. He’ll have everything he needs to darken the sky.”

“He doesn’t have you.”

She looked down at her chest, touching some the mess of red with one equally-stained hand. “He doesn’t need me. Look at me. My father sent him to recover the bow and my blood and he did both. If that blade was enchanted, and I’m sure it was, there will be more than enough for him to coat a dozen of those arrows before he needs to find me again.”

Eira had known what she was doing when she traded the bow but she had not thought about the blood. Clever bastard. “We know where he is. We can still stop him.”

Serana forced herself to her feet. “No. We don’t have time. Before I left, he told me what he was planning. He has vampires in every city. Once he darkens the sky, they’ll strike.”

The words chilled Eira to the bone. How many souls had she just traded for Serana’s? “Then we get to him before he can use the bow. We can’t be everywhere at once. If he uses the bow –“

“It will be a massacre,” Serana finished. “I know my father. He thinks we’ll be coming for him. He’ll want me to be there when he does it. He’ll wait – for a while, at least. That gives us time to do something. We can’t be everywhere at once, but we maybe we don’t have to be.”

“You want to warn them?” Eira asked. Serana nodded. “What are we going to tell them? A vampire army is coming to murder them all? The part about the sun should at least raise a few eyebrows before they try to burn us alive.”

Serana glared, the effort of which made her wince as she struggled with keeping her balance. She should have been lying down. “The Dawnguard, then. They have to help. This is what they do.”

“Maybe. I can’t say they’d be happy to see us, but at least they would listen.” She also could not vouch for them doing any good. Maybe the smell of them collectively soiling their underpants at the first sign of trouble would at least alert the real soldiers.

Serana always could read her mind. “They’ll have to be enough. If it comes down to it, let me do the talking. I’m nothing if not persuasive.”

There was a good deal of truth to that. Eira groaned and began wrestling with her tired, unwilling feet. “That’s a long walk. What makes you think your father will wait that long?”

“It’s not so long,” Serana said, peering at the sky. “We’ll make it. We can find horses. It’s nearly evening. That assassin won’t reach him until after dark anyway. When my father puts out the sun, he will want a show.”

Eira wanted to believe her. She wobbled beside Serana, her legs supporting her through force of will alone. “Okay. We’ll find the Dawnguard, save as many people as we can. Then we’ll stop your father.”

A look of desperation passed over Serana’s face. It was gone in an instant but Eira had seen enough. This was not how it was supposed to end. 

“Hey.” Eira grasped her shoulder and looked her in the eyes with confidence she did not entirely feel. “We’ll make it.”

The smallest twitch of her lips formed a smile. “I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered.

Eira looked toward where the assassin had disappeared. “We could really use one of those portals right now,” she muttered. “I wasn’t planning on sledding back to Skyrim.”

“We really need to do something about your sense of adventure.” Serana peered around the tower with her. No light crackled in the corners. There was no sign of anything that would help them get out of here. There were not even sleds.

“Do you think that portal will still be there if we walk back to the cave?” Eira asked miserably. She was actually starting to feel a twinge of panic. They did not even know where they were. How were they supposed to get out of here?

For once, the gods smiled on them. “It would not be.”

His royal high-and-mightiness, paladin snow lord Gele-something, strode through the field of rubble. It reminded Eira of a bad play. Here came the messenger of the gods, saving the day and putting the story back on track by divine intervention.

At the moment, she did not care, and apparently neither did Serana. “Can you get us out of here?”

“I can.” His gaze fell on the empty shrine. “I gather not all has gone well.”

Eira looked from the bloodstains on her hands to those on Serana’s to the pool of blood now freezing on the stone. “Not exactly.”

“Please,” Serana interrupted. “We need to get back to Skyrim. Can you help us?”

The elf opened his mouth for another of his long-winded speeches but one look from Serana was enough. “You have slain my brother. You have done me a great service.”

The portal the assassin had used to flee snapped to life once more. Eira spared the elf the slightest nod before bolting for it. Serana at least thanked him before hobbling away. They had no time to lose. For the first time in their journey together, they were truly racing against time. If her father ran out of patience, thousands of people would die. If they failed to convince the Dawnguard, thousands of people would die.

Serana passed through the portal just behind Eira. No one waited for them on the far side. That was good. Neither of them were up for a fight right now. Unfortunately it meant that the bow was already on its way to Harkon.

“Thank you,” Serana whispered as they started down the passage. “For saving me. For choosing me over… over everything. I’m not worth that but thank you.”

For choosing her life over the lives of thousands? Eira would make that choice every time. Right or wrong, it was the only choice she could make. “You are worth it,” she said quietly. “I’m not going to lose you. Not for anything.”


	28. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana arrive at Fort Dawnguard

Serana glanced furtively toward the sliver of blue visible from the bottom of the mountain pass. It was insane to think it might not be there the next time she looked but that was exactly what she was afraid of. She had told Eira her father would wait and, at the time, she had been completely convinced of it herself. But, with every passing hour, she became more and more unsure.

They should have been here hours ago. It should not have taken all night and most of the day to reach Fort Dawnguard but of course their journey had not been a peaceful one. Her life with Eira could well have been described by ‘and then it all went wrong’ but still she expected some things to go right. They did not have time for bandit ambushes or horses being spooked by wolves. By now her father would surely have the bow. He would have readied his arrows and given his speeches. His vampires would be ready to strike.

The knowledge made her walk a little faster, straining the wound in her gut and causing her teeth to grind. Eira had saved her life but she was no healer. She would have a scar there for the rest of her life, and right now every step felt like it would split her stomach open. It was just another thing slowing them down. She refused to let it stop them. They did not have the time. She would heal it later, once this business with the Dawnguard was done.

“I have to admit,” Eira said from beside her. “I’m not keen on our odds here.”

Serana was not terribly confident either but at least she was smart enough not to gripe about it. “What choice do we have? The Dawnguard are the only ones who will believe what we have to say. They already know what’s coming.”

Eira did not look convinced. “I know that. I’m just… you remember what Isran said when we left?”

She did remember; she had just been trying not to think about it. “He said he would kill me if we failed. I know. It’s going to be alright, Eira.”

“Sure it will. We’ll just cut our way out of this mess just like all the other ones.” She was venting and they both knew it. A moment later she gave Serana an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“He’s not going to kill me, Eira. I promise.” Serana paused for a moment, forcing herself to smirk through the pain. “You just have to trust me. Let me do the talking and once we’re done we don’t even have to stay. We can leave and go after my father and have this ended by tomorrow morning.”

Eira gave her a wan smile. “I hope you’re right.”

She hoped so, too. The journey to Castle Volkihar was a much shorter one than their walk to Fort Dawnguard. Had they just gone after her father right away, they could have stopped him before this all got worse. She had taken a huge risk coming here. It all had to be perfect. The Dawnguard had to help them. They had to move quickly, sneaking inside Riften and then every other major city to watch for vampire attacks. While the Dawnguard kept Skyrim from falling apart, that would leave Eira and Serana the job of stopping Harkon. If they refused, if Isran did try to kill Serana, or if her father grew impatient and snuffed out the sun before they were ready, thousands of people would die, and every one of those deaths would be her fault.

“We have to try,” Serana repeated, more to herself than to Eira. “This is the only way.”

Eira was quiet for a moment, her look turning almost sympathetic. “You want to be there, don’t you? In the middle of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said your father had people outside every city. If he doesn’t wait for us, if he completes the prophecy before we stop him, the people in those cities are going to need help. That’s where you want to be, isn’t it?”

Serana gave her the look she deserved. “Of course.”

Eira smiled sadly. “Well, I know you don’t want to hear this, but we might want to think about sitting this one out.”

If Serana could have responded, the words would not have been polite. Instead she just gave Eira a horrified look and tried to put together what had happened to the woman she knew. Eira wanted to save people, didn’t she? That was what she did.

“Hear me out.” Eira put one hand out as though Serana were about to physically attack her for the suggestion. She was not far wrong. “Let’s say it all goes wrong. We’re going to be passing a lot of burning cities before this is over. We can’t save them all. Even if we could, it’s going to be chaos inside the walls. There won’t be any uniforms separating us from the vampires and I’m betting your father’s people will be looking for us. If the guards see us, they’ll try to kill us. If the vampires see us, they’ll try to kill us. Hell, some scared mother protecting her children might get one of us with a heavy pot.”

Serana forced herself not to laugh at the image but she did give Eira the courtesy of a smile. “Eira the Dragonslayer, whose only bane was cast iron.”

Eira rolled her eyes. “You haven’t been here as long as I have. You don’t pick a fight with Skyrim’s women, especially not the mothers.”

“Sound advice.”

“My point is that we are the only ones who know the whole story. No one else knows about your father. The Dawnguard might try to fight him but we know how that will end. They aren’t trained for this. If they attack Castle Volkihar, they’ll be cut to pieces. That just leaves us. If we get killed, there’s no one with a plan to stop Harkon. We can’t let this spread outside of Skyrim. We have to be the ones to stop it.”

Serana knew she was right but she was a stubborn woman. She had spent all this time trying to be more selfless, more like Eira, and she was not about to turn her back on thousands of people when they needed her most. This was about more than stopping her father. “We could steal some Dawnguard uniforms, if that would make you feel better. Otherwise, we can make do with what we have. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to get somewhere without being spotted. If we’re quick and quiet, no one will even know we’re there.”

Eira actually laughed. “You’ve never been in a fight like this before, have you? Quick and quiet isn’t going to work, especially not once the fires break out.”

“Fires?”

“One stray fireball and up goes a building. With no one fighting the fires, how long before they spread and the whole district is in flames? The vampires might just set buildings on fire to flush out anyone hiding inside. Makes it easier for them to round up the cattle.”

Serana felt her teeth grinding from more than just the nagging pain in her gut. “And you would just leave them all to die?”

Eira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. No doubt she was just as frustrated as Serana. “I don’t know. Of course I want to be there, but what if we screw up? If we get killed, it won’t matter how many people we saved here. Your father wins and they all die anyway.”

“I know.” Serana looked up at that thin strip of blue hanging overhead. Still there. “If things go wrong, I want to help. If we’re near a city, we can help clear out the vampires and save as many people as we can. Then we make for home. We don’t have to save everyone, but if we can save a few…”

She left off her personal plea, allowing Eira to fill it in for her. “We can try. Just follow my lead once we’re inside. I’ll try to keep us as safe as possible.”

Serana smiled endearingly. “You’ve done alright so far. I think I can trust you.”

Eira snorted. “Yeah, see how you feel when your hair is on fire and I’m shouting ‘I told you so.’”

In spite of the gloomy attitude and their decision to sacrifice thousands of lives for the greater good, Eira at least seemed to take comfort in the idea of saving a few innocent souls. Serana hoped it would be that simple. Neither of them had mentioned the fact that Harkon had plenty of vampires capable of enthralling any human prisoners they happened to take. After just the first night, Skyrim would be filled with men and women robbed of their very minds. Even if they stopped her father, what would become of these people?

It was not a pleasant thought. Serana had learned more of her father’s plan than she had cared to share with Eira. She knew he had plans to corral the population, break their minds, and set himself up as Skyrim’s vampire overlord. It was not hard to imagine the terrified faces in those crowds, those of mothers watching their children taken, of children watching their parents change right before their eyes. Gods, what had she done? If Eira had just let her die, none of this would have happened. Now it was all on her shoulders. Every death in the coming days would be on her conscience. Eira should have just let her die.

Serana gave herself a sharp mental kick. Brooding over this was indulgent and blaming Eira for it was worse.

“Riften.” Eira blurted the name out like it should have meant something.

“What?”

“We’re going to pass Riften on our way out of Fort Dawnguard. The Dawnguard marching in and gabbling about vampires isn’t going to turn anyone’s head, but if we give them a reason to listen, your father might lose the element of surprise.”

Serana cocked her head. “Know anyone who might be receptive to a vampire’s warning?”

Eira adopted a wicked grin. “When was the last time you wreaked havoc on an innocent village?”

“Two years before I was locked up,” Serana answered without missing a beat. “It was a little hamlet outside Dawnstar. A few hundred scared villagers against one little vampire. I drew it out until morning. The kill is infinitely more satisfying when your prey is terrified and running for its life.”

Eira blinked, her expression changing to one of fearful amusement. “I’m not sure if you’re joking or not.”

“You can’t un-hear it if I tell you.”

She loved that she could still mess with her head. Eira sighed. “Fair enough. Anyway, if we spread a little terror in Riften, make the guards think there really is a vampire attack coming, we could save a few lives without having to stop.”

“I like it.” It actually was not a terrible plan. Harkon would likely have a vampire or two inside the walls but the bulk of his force would need to be hiding outside the walls in order to avoid attracting attention. People noticed when even one vampire took up residence in a village. A city might hide half a dozen before the guards started noticing. Any more than that and the locals would drive them out with pitchforks and torches.

Eira preened. “Thanks, I try. How long do you think we have?”

That blue sky was still there, hanging placidly above them, not a care in the world. “Maybe another day?” she guessed, sincerely hoping she was right. “That gives us time to warn Riften and Whiterun. Solitude, too, if we’re quick.”

Eira was nodding with her. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

Serana was still looking at the sky. She was staring at something she had not noticed before. A thick column of black smoke had appeared from behind one of the mountains. She waited for it to spread over the sky, darkening the world, but it did not. It was not her father’s work. That meant it was not their problem.

At least, she had thought so, until she realized where it was coming from. Serana groaned. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

Eira took a moment to pick out what Serana had seen. She heard her break into a run. Serana ran behind with her but they both knew it was already too late.

 

Fort Dawnguard was burning. The towers were in flames, the stone scarred black from the fires. Even the base of the fort had been scorched by fireballs. The wooden barricade the Dawnguard had erected had been shattered, the remaining stakes burning like candles in a vigil. Eira stepped carefully over a dead man in Dawnguard plate, giving a sharp kick to the vampire sprawled a further on.

“Look at this.” Eira gestured to the few bodies outside the barricade. “They had no idea this was coming. They were inside the gates before the Dawnguard even knew what was happening.”

Serana was silent, following Eira through the wreckage of the first gate and into the training grounds beyond. The scene was something out of a nightmare. There were bodies everywhere – lying sprawled on the path, broken in the corners, hanging from the watchtowers, burning in the fires. And this was only the beginning. Once the fighting spread to the cities, this was going to look like a good day. Everyone here at least had a weapon.

Eira knelt beside the body of a golden-haired boy pinned to the ground by his own sword. He had died crawling back to his friends further up the hill. “They’re all so fucking young,” she heard herself muttering.

Serana said nothing, but Eira could see enough in the way she stood, staring down at the body of a girl slumped against the wall and clutching a shattered crossbow to her chest. It was going to be hard to just pass all those cities by after this.

“What now?” Serana asked hollowly.

The sound of furniture splitting apart as the fire raged high above was answer enough for them both. The Dawnguard was finished. They should have expected this. Harkon knew who his enemy was. He knew there was only one armed force, however inept, who would take the threat of a vampire invasion seriously. Gods, she should have known this would happen. She should have been here. All these kids were dead because of her and still she could do nothing but insult them. She could have stayed, she could have helped them.

“We warn Riften,” Eira said, putting as much steel in her voice as she could muster. Now was not the time.

Serana looked further up the slope. A second barricade had been made out of wooden crates and practice dummies. There were a lot of bodies weighing it down. They did not need to go any further up the hill to see the gates were shattered. Even if they had wanted to, there was no time to search for survivors. Fort Dawnguard was a maze. No doubt there were still holdouts in some forgotten storeroom, some poor, terrified kid cowering under a sack of flower as vampires stalked the halls. If they went inside, they could save them. Whoever was still alive, no one could pull them out faster than Serana.

Eira forced herself to think about them just for a moment. The first in a long list of people she would be leaving behind to die. The first people she had killed because she could not stand to lose the woman she loved.

“Why now?”

She turned to see Serana still staring at the girl. Eira, at least, was all too happy to look away from the carnage. “What do you mean?”

“The bodies are still warm. The crows haven’t been here yet.” Serana turned toward Eira at last. “We missed this by hours. Why attack in broad daylight like this? In a few hours, they could have come at night and taken them by surprise.”

She had a point. This had been a surprise attack but it had not been launched when it should have. Harkon had all the time in the world and yet he rushed into this, risking his precious minions in an idiotic gamble. Why?

The reason struck Eira like a hammer blow. “You clever bastard.”

“What?” Serana jumped as Eira whirled, practically running out the gates.

“He’s not attacking in a few days, he’s attacking tonight. That’s why he came here.”

“Tonight? That doesn’t make sense.”

Eira shook her head. It made perfect sense. Harkon wanted a show. “Think about it. He attacks tonight, frightens every city out of its wits and kills tens of thousands of people before they know what’s happening. The cities turtle up. If they can wait until morning, they can win. So that’s what they do. They wait. They don’t run. They stay where they are. Then, when morning comes, he puts out the sun. He takes all that hope away from them. They die knowing they can’t win.”

Serana swore and looked at the sky. They only had a few hours left until sunset. Then they would be too late. “We don’t have much time.”

Eira said nothing, only quickened her pace. They would reach Riften before nightfall, sew their chaos, and be off before Harkon attacked. There would be no Dawnguard to save them from the vampires. No help was coming. That warning would have to be enough. If they moved fast, they would reach Whiterun a few hours before dawn.

They would be just in time, Eira thought bitterly, to watch the city fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for reading. You've been a wonderful audience and it's been a great pleasure writing for you.  
> Unfortunately, we're going to be stopping here for a few weeks. Things have been picking up at work so I haven't planned as far out as I want for the end of the story and I want to provide the best ending possible after how much time you've all sunk into reading this work. If you haven't noticed, we've started diverging from the main story somewhat sharply. Obviously that's going to continue. For the last segment of the story, we're still going to be following Eira and Serana as they try to save the world (and each other) but we're also going to be introducing a few new characters. We'll be following Talia, a street urchin from Riften who finds herself caught up in the coming war when all she wants is to be invisible, and Kara, a survivor of Fort Dawnguard who is just trying to keep her people alive. When the war comes to Riften, they will need to help each other if they ever want to see the sun again.  
> I'm very excited to tell their story and I hope you'll be just as excited to read it. Thank you once again for all the wonderful comments. I hope you enjoy the last chapters of Nightfall.


	29. Only A Shadow

Sylgja limped her way up the path home, her leg aching with every step. She wished it would just hurry up and heal. Lately it had not been slowing her down much but tonight it was particularly angry. That probably meant it was going to rain. If only she could hurry her way inside before it started. That was probably what the damned thing wanted her to do anyway, so why could it not make her life easier?

She sighed, shifting the pickaxe on her shoulder and squinting into the gloomy darkness surrounding the village of Shor’s Stone. The rocks of home had never looked so smug. Come on, they taunted, suddenly hiding veins of gold and if only she could swing her axe she would be set for life. She knew it was stupid but she really wanted to break open a few good boulders right now. Mining had always been a good way for her to vent and, after a lifetime of venting, she had gotten damned good at it. She had always prided herself on being able to break rocks faster than men twice her size. It earned her a good deal of respect, as well as some not undesired attention.

The limp in her leg could not stop the smile on her face. Whenever travelers passed through, she always made sure to put in an appearance. She liked the way their heads turned. Someone like her, able to swing an axe like that?

She gave her knee a reassuring pat that was somehow supposed to help. Best to keep the heads turning while she was young. It wouldn’t be long before she was an old crone, shocking the children around the fire with tales of her exploits from younger years. What exploits? Who could say? The world was full of adventure. She’d seen a few fights, spent a few nights tangled up in her sheets with strangers. She had lived well. Maybe one day she would hang up her pickaxe and go out to see the world, join up with the Stormcloaks or the Companions. She could fight with the best of them. She just needed a chance.

That was what her mother had wanted. The adventurer of their family, she had tried so hard to convince little Sylgja to pick up a bow and seek her death at the bottom of some draugr-infested cavern. There were better ways to spend her time underground and swinging an axe instead of a sword was much less likely to get her eaten alive. No, far safer was the life of a miner, and that was not a life she was ready to leave just yet.

She came over the last rise to find the fire burning bright and surrounded by her fellow miners. Hopefully they had saved her a seat as well as some mead. They were close enough to hear a shout. She had something clever saved up for this. What was it, again? It had come to her on the climb up and now she had let her mind go wandering. Oh, right!

Someone clamped a hand over her mouth. Her arms were pinned to her side before she could scream but that did not stop her trying. She opened wider, chomping in search of a finger. She would not go quietly!

“Shh,” a voice whispered in her ear. “It’s alright. We’re not here to hurt you. We’re friends. That means stop trying to bite me, I like that hand.”

That was what all bandits said. Sylgja was not going to be made into one of their prisoners. True Nords never backed down! She brought the heel of her good leg up and slammed it onto the foot of the woman holding her, snarling as the bones cracked. That would show her.

The woman just sighed. “Okay, you’ve broken my foot. Happy? Now cut it out. We’re not – _do you mind?_ ”

Another voice, this one so soft it was almost musical, came from beside her. “Not at all. I can wait.”

The woman holding her groaned. “Don’t you have a spell for this? Can’t you just, I don’t know, make her calm? Charm her?”

“Not everyone is as easy to charm as you, Eira.”

Sylgja tried grinding her heel down harder but the woman – Eira – did not even flinch. She tried again, shoving an elbow into her side and swinging her pickaxe behind her leg but her arms were pinned and Eira was as strong as a bear. It was infuriating.

The other woman, the one with the soothing voice, came into view. Sylgja froze. She saw her eyes. Vampire. Oh, Talos, she was a vampire. She was going to die here.

“Come on now. There’s no need for that. You don’t need to be scared of us. We’re here to help.”

The words washed over her. Here to help. That was good. She didn’t need to be scared of her. They could help with – what were they helping with?

She tried to speak but there was still a hand in the way. Eira sighed and slowly let go with a muttered “about time.”

“What - what’s going on?” she asked, putting a hand to her head. What was wrong? Her head felt foggy and – and there was a vampire!

The vampire spoke before she could scream. “You’re from this village right? Those are your friends up there? Right now they’re one loud noise away from being eaten. Eira and I want to keep that from happening but we can’t do it on our own. If you want to help us, that means no screaming.”

Sylgja wanted to scream. She was terrified, but if she was going to die, she wasn’t going to let them kill everyone in Shor’s Stone, too. The only weapon she had, her pickaxe, suddenly felt leaden and useless. The vampire could have stopped her. Her thrall was still waiting somewhere behind Sylgja just in case she made more noise.

She let the pickaxe fall to her side. The vampires smiled. “That’s better. Don’t worry, you can trust us.”

The thrall shuffled up beside Sylgja. “I don’t remember you being this polite when _we_ met.”

“I had just woken up from a very long nap,” the vampire said, her tone almost playful. “And besides, she’s prettier than you, don’t you think?”

Eira snorted and put one hand on Sylgja’s shoulder. “Here that? She likes you. And believe me, she doesn’t like anybody.”

Sylgja let Eira guide her to the edge of the path, crouching behind the underbrush just within view of the campfire. She could see Grogmar’s broad shoulders looming between her and the fire as he hunched over a bowl of stew. And there was Filnjar. He was wandering around the edge of the village, looking out into the dark with his old-man stoop. Sylgja had been gone a long while. He would be expecting her back. She had never known him to worry about her. That was sweet of him.

There was a reason they were showing her this, and Sylgja knew very well what it was. “Okay.”

The vampire settled in beside her. “What’s that?”

“I get it. You’re showing me my friends to make a point. What do you want from me? I don’t have anything to offer.”

The vampire’s smile grew hungry. “Nothing at all?”

Sylgja flushed. “No. Nothing. Just… I have this. It’s a ring. From my mother. I -”

Eira’s hand caught her arm as she started to pull it from her pocket. “That’s not why we’re here. Serana, are you done torturing the poor girl, or is there a deal in the works for her firstborn?”

The vampire, Serana, laughed lightly. “You never let me have any fun.”

“You’ll have to excuse her,” Eira said quietly. “She doesn’t get out much.”

“I am sorry. My name is Serana, and this is Eira. I hope you’ll forgive us our little kidnapping attempt but we couldn’t have you walking in there alone. Trust me, you’re much safer out here with us. And like I said, we’re going to need your help.”

Sylgja looked back toward the fire. If it wasn’t for her bad leg, she probably could have made a run for it. These women were clearly insane on top of being vampires. Who knows what they would decide to do with her or her friends once they had what they wanted.

But she had no choice. Not yet. “What kind of help?”

There was an odd pause as Serana opened her mouth to speak, then appeared to choke on the words. “It’s strange. I’m still not sure how to explain the whole thing and I’ve been living with it for more lifetimes than you can count. Let’s start small. There are a lot of vampires out in the world tonight. Eira and I are the good ones. The bad ones are probably coming here and they’re not going to be nearly as polite as we were.”

“We need your help getting your friends up there somewhere safe,” Eira said, continuing the completely absurd explanation. “Look how long it’s taken us to convince just you. Doing that for a whole village takes time or magic that we can’t spare.”

Sylgja blinked, shaking her head as though the insanity of it all would fall from her hair like rainwater. “I don’t understand. Vampires? Why here? Why Shor’s Stone? We’re just miners.”

“It’s not just here.” Serana’s voice had turned grave, and for the first time, Sylgja found herself inclined to listen. “We just came from Riften. They’ll be having their own troubles soon enough. Windhelm, Whiterun, Solitude, every city you can think of, they’re coming for all of them tonight. Even little settlements like this one. The big cities weren’t enough for him. He has to take them all.”

Serana’s look darkened as she spoke the last words. Sylgja felt the anger streaming off of her. “Who is He?”

“My father,” Serana growled.

“We’ll stop him,” Eira said quietly, and Sylgja could tell it was as much for Serana’s benefit as for hers. “But first we need to stop his people here, and for that we need your help. We need you to tell your friends what’s happening and get them somewhere safe. You have a mine, don’t you? Can you barricade yourselves inside?”

Sylgja’s head was spinning. “No. No, the mine is full of spiders and we haven’t been able to clear them out. The guards won’t help and -”

Eira groaned. “Nothing’s ever easy. Isn’t there a village just down the road? Darkwater Crossing?”

“Yes, there is. My parents…” Sylgja paused, her breath catching. They had said every city. It sounded completely insane, but what if they were right? She gave this Serana woman a long look. She looked like she could be trusted, but that might have been something vampires did with their victims.

Serana tilted her head. “What is it?”

“You’re telling the truth? About vampires and - I don’t know, whatever else you just said?”

Eira chuckled. “It’s not easy to believe. Trust me, I’ve lived it and it still sounds like nonsense when I say it out loud.”

“It’s not nonsense and we are telling the truth,” Serana said, glaring at Eira.

“My parents are there. At the Crossing. I have to go to them. Please, you have to help. I’ll pay you or - or whatever it is you want from me, just help me save them.”

Serana looked over Sylgja’s shoulder. She looked almost pleading. Behind her, she could hear Eira sigh. “It’s not far. We could pass through.”

Sylgja looked to Eira. “Thank you. Thank you. I don’t - are you her thrall? Her companion?”

Eira closed her eyes and put one hand to her forehead. Sylgja could hear Serana stifling a sudden gale of laughter. “You’ve no idea how much of a comfort that would be, kid. But no, everything I do for her, I do out of the kindness of my heart.”

“That’s very touching,” Serana said, her voice trembling with her quiet laughter.

“Thank you, mistress.”

Serana suppressed one last snickering fit and turned back to Sylgja. “So there you have it. That’s why we’re here and what we’re up against. Can you help us?”

Sylgja looked toward her friends still gathered around the fire. She thought again of her mother, of the grand stories she used to share from her youth. She had been an amazing adventurer in her day and Sylgja had always wondered what she thought of her own path in life. There were few exciting tales about breaking rock. This would be something she would jump at. Wouldn’t it? Battling vampires under the moonlight?

“I can help,” she said, nodding. “We can fight. We all can.”

“Not against this,” Eira said, her voice stern. “That’s brave of you but these aren’t bandits you’re fighting. Let us handle the vampires. We just need you to get your friends on the road and keep them going until you get to Darkwater Crossing. Can you do that for us?”

Sylgja nodded. “Yes. I can do it. We’ll run all the way there if we have to.”

Eira chuckled. “Running in the dark with a bad leg, are you? Awfully brave of you. Reminds me of myself.”

“That’s a very cruel thing to say, Eira,” Serana retorted.

Sylgja watched as Eira put her hands on her injured leg. Soft, gold light spilled from her fingers. She managed to stifle a yelp, instead gasping in pain as the light washed over her. It was over in a moment and, when it was done, her leg had stopped hurting. She flexed it as Eira pulled her hands away. Her knee popped and her bones seemed to creak but it felt better than it had in weeks. It felt new.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I didn’t know – I mean, you don’t look like a healer.”

“She’s a damned good one,” Serana said quietly. “Don’t worry, it surprised me, too.”

Eira smiled and gave the newly-healed leg a squeeze. “That’s the secret, kid. Set the bar low. That way they’re more impressed when you manage to do something right.”

“Is that what happened?” Serana asked, giving Eira a very affectionate look.

Eira settled in beside her, returning the smile and tilting her head. “It worked out pretty well, I’d say.”

Serana chuckled. “I’m glad you think so because things are about to get exciting again.They’re here. See them? Coming down the rocks, there.”

Sylgja felt her heart start hammering. In the darkness just beyond the campfire, a pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the shadows. It was all real. They were telling the truth. Vampires. And no one was moving. No one saw them. What were they doing? Were they blind? They would all be killed and - and Sylgja would have been right there, just settling down by the fire. She probably wouldn’t have even gotten a bite of dinner yet.

Eira nodded a moment later. “I count six, plus a lot of dogs. We might be in luck.”

“How do you figure?”

“If they’re all here, there aren’t any at the Crossing. The more we take care of here, the better.”

Serana nodded. “Fair point.”

The two vampires turned to Sylgja one last time. It was Eira who spoke to her. “You ready, kid?”

Sylgja nodded. “I think so.”

Serana stood, rising taller than her true height. Eira did the same and for the first time unsheathed a sword at her hip. Sylgja stared at the two of them, at the black-steel blade and the unmistakable air of power surrounding the two of them. Whoever they were, they were not just vampires. Even if she did not know them, she knew she wanted to be like them.

“Do you have a name?” Serana asked.

“Sylgja.”

“It was good to meet you, Sylgja. I hope our paths cross again one day.”

She would never forget that battle. Serana flying through the camp, lightning and fire bending to her will as Eira’s blade seemed to turn to smoke. They were everywhere at once. Sylgja shouted and cursed and had to drag Filjnar from his home but she finally got them all on the road. It was the most terrifying night of her life even knowing she was safe. She never saw Eira or Serana again. They never came to the path, not even when they reached Darkwater Crossing. The tales of a vampire attack, of spirits from Sovngarde come to life to save the good people of Skyrim, would live far longer than anyone who had actually seen it happen.

Sylgja would never forget what it was like, walking that path in the darkness, seeing a flicker of movement between the trees and knowing she was safe. That was what she wanted to be. Someone whose shadow could keep everyone she cared about safe.


	30. Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only person Talia ever cared about is being held for ransom, and the price is something no one else in the world could pay

_I will make you watch._

Talia crouched in mouth of the sewer pipe, rainwater lapping at her feet before spilling off into the canal. The smell no longer bothered her. This was her home, after all, and it had been for as long as she could remember. It gave her time to adjust to the smell of sewage. More importantly, it taught her there were worse things in the world than the stench of the Ratway.

_Bring me the crown or she will die._

Even Riften had standards. Those too wretched for the streets above were banished to the Ratway. Murderers, thieves, and all the scum of the earth gathered together in the damp warrens that Talia was forced to call her home. It had made her very careful as a girl. She had gotten very good at disappearing, at blending in with the shadows and not making a sound. She had gotten used to sleeping in the muck – rats were easier to fend off than men with evil minds – and the hunger was not so bad once she had gotten used to it.

She had also gotten very good at getting places that wanted to keep her out. Picking locks was just as handy as picking pockets when you needed something to eat. Begging could only take you so far, and she had learned very quickly that showing her face in the light of day was just as dangerous as creeping around at night. The guards might decide she looked suspicious or that she was disturbing the peace. They were not kind to thieves. Especially the women.

Armored boots tramped across the bridge overhead. The creak of wooden planks mixed with the clatter of their armor as they moved out into the city. She wanted to stay here. No one would ever find her down here.

_Bring it to me by morning or there will be nothing left when I am through with her._

They had already found Ava. The one bright light in the choking darkness of the Ratway, so sweet and wonderful and warm and everything that Riften was not. She was too perfect for the Ratway. That’s why it had tried to kill her. That’s why Talia was still here and she was not. Talia was scrawny, dirty, and desperate. She fit right in with the rats.

She watched as the torchlight moved toward the far side of the bridge. Fine. If she was a rat, then she would be a rat. No one noticed a rat in the shadows. There were rats everywhere, from the most pathetic hovel to the Jarl’s palace, and that’s exactly where she needed to be tonight. She had to get in, steal the Jarl’s beloved circlet, and bring it back to trade for Ava’s life.

Talia grasped the top of the pipe and pulled herself up over the lip. No footsteps. She was safe. Finding the familiar holds in the wall, she pulled herself up to the side of the bridge, grasped the wooden planks, and hauled herself over the side before skittering into the shadows. Just like a rat. No one had seen her. No one had heard her. She was too small, too quick for them to notice. She paused long enough to calm her breathing, if not her nerves, and cocked one ear toward the street. There were some nearby, four near that market stall, two running off toward the docks over there, but no one near her. She was actually surprised how much sound they were making until it struck her how silent the street was.

The inn behind her was dead silent. Candles flickered in the windows and patrons moved about but there was no sound, no life to it. Normally it would have been deafening. The whispers beneath the city were right; tonight was different. Something was in the air.

_Ava will die unless you get me that crown. Now get off your knees and go!_

She shuddered as she remembered pleading for Ava’s life. She had begged –actually groveled and scraped and offered anything she had – just for the chance to see her one more time. Just to keep her from harm. This had been the price. An impossible one.

Impossible for anyone but Talia.

Valen. She ground her teeth and balled her fists. Why? Why had he done this to them? They were going to leave. They had saved enough to escape, to see the world outside. Tonight would have been their last night in Riften. They were going to go out on the docks and look at the stars one last time and –

Talia closed her eyes. She had to stop. This was the only way to save Ava. She wasn’t an assassin like one of the Brotherhood. She couldn’t just make him go away. She wasn’t even a real thief. She was just a beggar who could pull the keys off a drunkard’s belt while he wasn’t looking. That was all she was good for. Stealing from those too important to notice her, which was almost everyone, and hiding from anyone scary enough to hurt her, which was everyone. Everyone but Ava.

Then she had to do it. Talia crept to the edge of the building and peered out into the market. Over the canvas-topped stalls and parked wagons, she could make out the silhouette of the palace. The sides danced with torchlight as guards pounded around the perimeter and the windows were busy with darting shadows as servants and nobles went about their business inside. Getting inside the palace when it was sleeping was difficult enough and now she had to do it while it was wide awake.

She forced herself to stay still for just a moment. One last breath filled her lungs and, heart hammering, she forced herself to take the first step.

Alleys passed in dark blurs as she zipped down the darkened streets, avoiding street lamps and nervous guardsmen at almost every corner. She cursed whoever or whatever had gotten them so angry. Some said it was vampires. They said some had come by in the evening, throwing fireballs and dragging men off into the bushes, never to be seen again. Some said there were hundreds, others only two, both beautiful and terrifying and older than the sky. Some of the guards had fallen under their spell just from looking at them and had turned on their companions in blind obedience to their new masters. They had come from Fort Dawnguard, where everyone had seen the smoke rising. By now even the lowest urchin had noticed the battered vampire hunters crawling into the city like beaten dogs. They should have known better than to fight. That’s what happened when you fought back. You got kicked. People you cared about got kicked, too.

It didn’t matter to Talia. Whatever it was, it would not get the crown for her. It would not save Ava’s life. She had to do that herself. As the walls of the palace loomed larger, she started going more slowly. There would be more guards around here, including those Dawnguard survivors.

Talia had tried to get a glimpse of them earlier, too. They hadn’t looked much different than Talia, all covered in mud and grime, their clothes more battered than their faces. A lot of them were bleeding. Some were so hurt they had to be carried through the gates on litters. It was a sad sight. She remembered the guards asking them what happened. People had started shouting when they heard about the vampires. They wanted the Dawnguard to leave. The Jarl promised them safety but that hadn’t stopped people from panicking. Some went straight home and came back with bags and families and had run right out the gate. Just like that. Out into the world like it was nothing. Talia hated them a little for that. That was her dream they were living and they had acted like it was so terrible.

Then Valen’s thugs had found her and she had not seen anything. Just Ava, bruised and broken and trying so hard not to cry. And Valen. Valen, with his sneer and his filth and his fat. Why couldn’t the vampires take him? Just take him and leave everyone else alone.

Talia watched another guard patrol thunder down the next road. She was close, now. The buildings here were not apartments or even houses but estates. There were only a few more between Talia and the palace. She could dart through the yards and over the iron fences and reach the wall without being seen. Then the real work would begin.

She hopped the fence, darting under trees and bushes so large she could have lived in them and the nobles would never have known. She could have hidden Ava here – why hadn’t she done that? They could have seen the stars and begged in the market.

Stupid. It wasn’t safe here. Ava was waiting for her. Valen could be hurting her. If he got bored of waiting, he…

Before she knew it, she was outside the servants’ entrance. Talia had used the door before only once and had promised herself to never do it again. Now here she was, on the worst night of her life, doing it all over again. This was the last time. If there was any justice in the world, she would never set foot inside these wretched halls again. She would get in, steal the crown, save Ava, and leave Riften. Tonight.

One of the servants came rushing out the hidden door. A young man, nervous like everyone else, casting glances at the shadows like every one hid a score of vampires. He never saw the rat skulking behind the bushes. No one ever did. He cast a glance behind him, pushed the door closed, and pelted off into the darkness. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The servants were supposed to keep that door locked after dark. What was he doing?

Didn’t matter. Talia saw the opening and she took it. The door was unlocked. It was now or never.

She pushed aside all thoughts of Ava, all the fear of Valen and vampires and men with evil minds, and found that place deep inside herself. The place she went when she needed to be invisible. She breathed in the crisp night air, and made herself Quiet.

The door was open and closed so quickly the guards could have blinked and missed it. Inside the palace were blazing torches and servants with wild eyes but there was always a dark corner. That was where the rats hid. When Talia was Quiet, she knew no one could find her. She had used it all her life, growing up in the Ratway like she had. She had learned how to keep men from looking at her, how to keep them from hearing her as she ran away. She had gotten good at it, so good she could stay Quiet for hours, maybe days. Only Ava had gotten her to stop. She had wanted Ava to notice her, at least a little.

The guards did not notice her. Talia wound her way through the maze of passages as though she were back in the Ratway. It was no more dangerous and at least here the halls were supposed to go somewhere important. Important buildings did not wander like the Ratway did. She passed vases encrusted with gems worth more gold than she had seen in her life. She passed spoons that could have bought food, water, and safety for months. When she passed the kitchens, she felt her stomach twist and nearly turned to fill her pockets with whatever was on the tables. There was bread in the oven. She could almost taste it as she ran.

At last she came to the Jarl’s chambers. The hallway outside was deserted. That was strange. Talia perked up her ears and listened. This wing of the palace had been strangely quiet. Was the Jarl asleep? It seemed impossible but the Jarl’s apathy toward her people was well-known. She probably just wanted the vampires to keep quiet as they went about their butchery.

Talia crept to the door, eyes flicking as she tried to see everything at once. No one was coming. No one was here. This might be the only chance she ever had. Luck was with her. She had to believe that.

She grasped at the hilt of her dagger and slid it from the wrappings on her thigh. Blunt and rusty, it would probably break in a real fight, but she did not have it for a real fight. She had it as a last resort. Most men could lift her over their heads with one hand but still she felt better with this rusty kitchen knife than with nothing at all. Damn, that’s what she should have grabbed; she was here anyway, their kitchen knives would probably be sharper than this wretched thing.

There was no time for caution. Part of her wanted to ram through the door and ransack the room until she found what she needed. That part of her should have died a long time ago. The survivor in her remembered the stories. The Jarl was paranoid and her wizard was a genius.

Carefully, quietly, Talia poked the door. Her knife bumped against the wood without making so much as a scratch but it did not explode. The metal did not spark. A thousand angry spirits did not rise from the floorboards.

Stupid bloody rumors.

Talia pushed against the handle, waiting for – by the Eight, it was not even locked! Fine. Good fortune was not to be questioned. Ava still needed rescuing and that meant there was no time to waste.

The Jarl’s room was as opulent as Talia had expected. The bed alone was larger than anywhere Talia had slept in her life and it was raised far enough off the ground that she could probably have lived underneath it comfortably for the rest of her life. That bed was enough to remind Talia why she had stayed in Riften so long. She liked stealing from people like this. She liked taking what was theirs and putting it to better use.

Putting aside her hatred for the bed, she started hating the rest of the room. In one corner stood a little table with a lot of mirrors, the kind every noble seemed to have. They liked hiding their jewels there. Talia looked there first. The tabletop was barren but the little drawers were not. Each one hid a small fortune, their brilliant gemstones and hidden bands of gold sparkling in the candlelight. Everything in her screamed to take a handful. It would set her up for the rest of her life. Two handfuls and she could buy a home for Ava.

She couldn’t risk it. She pushed the drawers closed one by one, glaring at the tapestry on the wall. The depiction of a man and woman, unsmiling and distant, watched over the room, their hands folded in their laps. There was no love there, save for all the jewels crusting their fingers.

The rest of the room was normal. Expensive clothes, expensive curtains, expensive windows, but no crown. Talia cursed. She was probably wearing the damned thing.

She had nearly gone back to raid the hidden jewels out of desperation – maybe Valen would take them in trade for Ava instead – when she spotted it. She had been so focused on the bed that she had missed the night tables. The crown sat on the far one, neglected and unloved.

Talia would fix that. She scuttled over and snatched it off the table as gingerly as she could.

She had done it. She had stolen from the royal palace in RIften. No one had ever done that before. Not the most successful, most revered members of the Thieves Guild. Arrogant as they were, they could still not manage half of what Talia could. Pride surged through her, lifting her up for just a moment. She could do anything. Valen would have to let Ava go now. It was all going to work out. She could grab a handful of those glimmering diamonds and rubies, toss a few shiny pearls in, and Ava would never be hungry again. She just had to get back.

Talia pilfered one of the more impressive-looking stashes of jewels, lining the pockets in her beaten tunic. She tucked the better loot into the hidden pockets of her tattered cloak. It looked more like a used rag, anyway, so no one ever thought to look through it. It made it perfect for the important things.

The crown she held in her hand. It was nothing short of Ava’s life that she held and she would not part with it for a moment.

Something in the distance rumbled. Talia paused near the door, looking back toward the window. Some animal instinct told her that was not normal. That meant danger.

There was another. And another. They were coming from the gate. They were getting louder. More and more echoed, rattling the windows and causing the mirror to shake. Talia’s blood began to freeze. She knew that sound. Mages.

Boots thundered down the hall. “Secure the palace! I want –“

Talia bolted for the door. Too late. Men in armor were in the hall. They were charging right at her. She froze, looking for shadows. There were none.

“Who the hell – thief! Thief in the palace!”

The guards charged. Talia turned and ran. The windows. She could jump out and –

The room filled with the sound of exploding glass. The world spun and sparkled and went very white. When had she gotten on the floor?

Her ears rang and her head throbbed. For a moment, she forgot all about the guards as she rolled to her knees, one hand pressed to her forehead. What was happening?

She turned, remembering the guards behind her. The hall was a sea of fire and blackened stone. More explosions sounded from down the hall. She felt them more than she heard them, her heart stopping as her chest shook with every blast. Someone was attacking the palace? That was madness. Who would do something like that?

As she remembered the rumors, the tales of vampires and mages and the bloody faces of the Dawnguard, she felt the panic begin to choke her. it was all true. The vampires were real and they were here. In Riften. She had to get out of here.

Someone moved outside the window. Something laughed and shouted. Then came another boom. The walls groaned and everything came crashing down around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, we're going to be starting the stories of two OC's outside Serana and Eira's story. We'll see more of them as the story goes on but there is going to be a lot of focus on Talia and Alicia, her collaborator for this narrative arc. I'm very excited to have the chance to tell their story along with Serana's and I hope you'll join me in following their ups and downs through the longest night of their lives. Since these are completely new characters, I'd welcome any first impressions or feedback you have, both here or on Tumblr. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy where their story takes you.


	31. The Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia, the newly-promoted captain of the Dawnguard, struggles to take control of Riften. Talia finds herself running for her life as everyone in the city searches for her.

Captain Alicia Seroven. The whole thing just sounded wrong. She should have stuck to something simple, like Alicia, the baker from Riverwood, or Alicia from Seroven Farm just down the road. Her life should have been a quiet one.

More explosions shook the stone of the Jarl’s palace. Guards swept down the corridors with swords drawn, shouting for their Jarl. Alicia had been in the main hall with her when the vampires had first attacked. Two mages burst through one of the side passages, spraying the room with fire. If she had been sitting one bench to her right, those would have been her last moments. Instead, she had survived long enough to cut the both of them down while they were busy killing everyone else. Servants and guardsmen too brave for words had rushed them with everything and with nothing, with halberds, handaxes, or kitchen knives, and they had paid dearly for that bravery.

She tried not to think about it as more guards jostled her. Apparently the Jarl’s personal quarters had just been blown up, too, and now everyone was rushing to save her royal undergarments. There was something to be said for the chaos. The earlier vampire attacks, as well as the train of Dawnguard wounded marching through her front door, had convinced the Jarl the threat was very real, and that had made her very eager to help the Dawnguard and save her people.

Gods willing, they would be ready this time, though Alicia certainly did not feel it. It felt just like it had before. That terrified her.

“Captain!” One of her soldiers pushed his way through the throng of guards and practically tripped over himself trying to get to her. That was the thing about the Dawnguard; they were awful at being soldiers but by the Eight did they try.

Alicia caught him by the arm to keep him from falling on his face and pushed him down the hallway in front of her. “Report.”

“We’ve got the main hall secured, ma’am. We won’t have another surprise like that. Not on our watch.”

It was going to take a lot to get used to getting called ma’am. “Good. Where are we in the city? Have we heard back from the Bunks?”

The soldier shook his head. “No, ma’am. But they’re all the way across town. Lieutenant sent runners as soon as the explosions hit.”

Well, if that old bastard was still alive and kicking they might make it out of this after all. Alicia would need to find him before she left the palace. The Bunkhouse was a long walk, almost to the city gates, and she wanted to leave things here in capable hands. Not to mention half the city could be crawling with vampires and she would probably get killed on the way over.

No time to think about that, either. “Go find the old man and tell him to meet me at the palace gates.”

The boy saluted and ran off, giving Alicia just enough time to collar another of her hapless soldiers before she had a chance to hide. “You there!”

“Ma’am?”

She resisted the urge to look behind her. People should not be saluting her like that. “Where’s our fearless leader?”

The girl smirked, instantly endearing herself to Alicia. Disdain for Isran had been slowly building in the ranks even before the disaster at Fort Dawguard. “No sign of him, ma’am. Saw him in the palace before it all went down. Nobody’s seen him since.”

Terrific.

“Guess that puts you in charge, Captain.”

Alicia’s good will toward her evaporated. There was no call to remind her of that. “Guess so. Well, if you see him, tell him I went to the Bunkhouse. We lost the fort, we’re not losing a city full of people, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Good. Now make yourself useful and find you sergeant. You have orders? Good. Hop to them. And make the Dawnguard proud. Or something.”

The woman scampered off the opposite direction as the first soldier. Alicia ended up following her into the main hall, watching as she darted right through the crowd toward a grey-haired figure surrounded by guards. The old man always was a mind reader. Now she just needed to clean up the mess that was the city of Riften. A problem like that would not have phased a more seasoned military mind, but Alicia was anything but seasoned. Two days ago she had been standing watch over the front gate. She liked those days. Pretending she was a soldier instead of being forced to actually be one. Her most exciting moments came when she got to watch more important people walk by. Important people like that Eira woman.

Wasn’t she supposed to be stopping all this? Her and her pet vampire? Well, obviously they had made a fine mess of that. And now it was her mess. Lovely.

Alicia pushed her way toward the Lieutenant, sparing a moment to wish Eira luck. She had liked her. Apart from the big three, she was the only soldier-looking member of the Dawnguard. Seeing her around had made the whole thing feel real. People like Alicia should have stuck with cleaning out stables.

The Lieutenant saw her coming and waved her over. “Captain.”

His voice was like coarse iron being put to the grindstone. “What’s going on in the city?”

“Vampires are everywhere, the people are panicked, and the guards are running about like headless chickens,” his growl seemed to turn upward in a smile that his scarred face could not quite manage. “They could really use a hero right now. How about it?”

“You’re a riot,” Alicia growled back. “Isran’s disappeared –“

“Praise the Divines.”

“So I’m heading to the Bunkhouse. We need to keep this from getting any worse.”

“I agree,” the Lieutenant nodded his head toward the main gate. “We’ve held the keep, so that’s a good start. Guards will be all over the estates, since the nobles there are paying their salary, so that leaves us something of a free hand in the rest of the city. I’d suggest holding the market. Only a few bridges to defend and lots of space for us to get settled, gather people, stay safe until the sun comes up. If those are your orders, ma’am.”

Alicia smirked. “I’m going to start issues commands with a short ‘what he said’ and see if that improves morale. Be about it, old man. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He held up his hand to keep her from running off and, somewhat violently, plucked a nearby soldier’s crossbow from his hands. “Here. You’re probably a better shot than most of us. Try not to get yourself killed.”

“Right, right, only if I feel it is truly beneficial to the cause.” She hefted the weapon, sighting down against the wall and making sure the bolts at her waist had not vanished in the confusion. Leadership may have completely eluded her but she could still outshoot any of the other Dawnguard recruits.

“Captain!”

One of those recruits she had just disparaged came pounding through the door, panting and bleeding from a wound in his neck. Alicia looked for a healer but the Lieutenant had already summoned one.

“What is it, soldier?”

“Word from Isran. He has orders, ma’am.”

The old man gave Alicia a look. “Wonders never cease. Well, what is it, soldier?”

“He says not to be afraid and to kill any vampires you see and that be believes in your abilities.”

A very long, painful silence passed between Alicia and anyone close enough to hear the poor boy’s words. The Lieutenant, never a subtle man, groaned loudly. It was like a mountain crumbling to dust. The boy looked puzzled. Sometimes Alicia forgot that Isran did have a following among the more starry-eyed recruits.

“What a shame word never reached us,” the Lieutenant grumbled.

“Helpful orders, those,” Alicia agreed. “Master strategist Isran is going to rule the world someday.”

The boy shuffled awkwardly. “Uh –“

“Find a bench, kid. You’re getting blood on your uniform.” Alicia turned to her older, wiser subordinate. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

“Remember to kill any vampires –“

“I heard it the first time.”

Alicia stumped toward the door, motioning angrily for a few nearby clusters of Dawnguard to follow her. She recognized most of them. There were at least a few good shots among them. Maybe they would manage to actually kill a vampire or two before they were all eaten alive. No doubt they had been listening in on the whole conversation instead of doing something useful. The Dawnguard were nothing if not terrible gossips.

Either way, she gave them the short version of what was happening. “Follow me. We’re going to the Bunks.”

They all followed. Marvelous, the way they thought that was enough to go on. At least none of them asked why.

She opened the gates to smoke, fire, and screams. The walls were ablaze with torches and almost every tower in sight was burning. Those buildings nearest the walls were already suffering, their rooftops catching fire or trailing smoke in thick, black clouds. It looked like the end of the world. It looked like Fort Dawnguard all over again.

Someone slammed into Alicia like a stray bolt, knocking her down the last few steps before the street. Whoever had struck her rolled along the ground in front of her, yelping as she hit the ground. Alicia thought she heard the tinkling of something expensive hitting the stone amid the clatter and confusion.

“Stop! Stop that thief!”

Alicia picked herself up and retrieved her crossbow in time to see a young girl in tattered clothing taking off toward the estates. She looked like someone already dead; just a stick with rags streaming from her bones. She raised her crossbow, sighting on the poor girl as she ran for the safety of the shadows.

She didn’t pull the trigger.

One of the guards raced down the steps and stared angrily at her. “Why didn’t you shoot?”

Alicia grabbed him by the shoulder and pointed at the burning buildings. “See that? That’s what I care about. I’m walking into that. You want to go chase some kid who took your coin purse? You go right ahead.”

The guard puffed himself up angrily. “It wasn’t a coin purse, you halfwit! She stole the Jarl’s crown!”

Oh. Alicia looked toward where the girl had vanished into the night. “Your job right now is to make sure your Jarl still has a head to wear it on come morning. Look around, the city’s a mess. She won’t get far on her own. Just pick it off her corpse when this is over.”

She took one last look at the guard and started off toward the city, he well-intentioned idiots in tow. That kid had picked tonight of all nights to pull a heist like that? Poor thing never had a chance.

 

Talia squeezed between the iron bars of a fence and plunged into the shade of some overgrown bushes. She did not even try to catch her breath, just gasped into the dirt and clutched frantically at the crown still in her hand.

She should be dead. The roof had come down and should have crushed her. She did not know how or why she thought to do it, but she somehow found herself under that massive bed when the rafters had come crashing down. Even then she had nearly been killed by the bed splitting in half and the sight of burning timber puncturing the mattress and nearly pinning her to the floor. Somehow she had gotten out, found her way through the smoke and fire and howling guards long enough to crawl through a window and escape.

Then she had crashed into that Dawnguard woman. Gods, where had she come from? She had nearly gotten out when that guard saw her and started shouting. She had panicked. She should have been dead.

Gradually her breathing began to slow. She should have been dead, but she was not. She was still alive. She could still help Ava. She just had to get home.

The Ratway could not have been farther than a short jog from where she now hid but it might as well have been in Solitude. There were vampires in the streets. Vampires! And the guards had seen here. Everyone in the city wanted to kill her and no one would hesitate to run through some little thief girl they found in the dark. Better to be safe and not leave her alive. She wasn’t worth anything to them and she could be helping the vampires.

Shouting echoed all around her. The clash of steel and the screams of the fighting carried from nearby estates. Armored boots pounded every street. Talia crouched lower and tried to burrow into the dirt. She just needed a moment. A moment to get over her fear and remember that someone needed her.

The back door of the mansion in front of Talia burst open and a woman came screeching out of it. Talia watched, petrified as she ran, screaming down the steps and into the garden.

Something followed her. A black shape, something that bounded forward like a dog but with red eyes and a trail of mist behind it, followed her down the steps. It moved faster than a blink and did not make a sound. It found the woman, and when it lunged, it struck her with enough force to send her sprawling. Her shriek turned desperate as she fell.

Then it was silent.

The monster shook and shuddered on top of the woman. Talia had seen stray dogs before. She knew what it looked like when they fed.

She watched, silent, as the monster rose from the woman’s corpse and began testing the air with its nose. Talia swore she could see the blood on its jaws. It began tilting its head, turning a bit closer to where Talia was hiding. That was impossible. She was all the way across the grounds. It could not possibly smell her from here.

It was looking right at her. Talia felt herself shaking. She had to get up. She had to run.

Someone else came out of the open door. The monster turned to it and stared. Talia looked, too, and she did not need to see its eyes to know it was a vampire. The dog looked toward her again, eyes shining, reflecting the light of a burning watchtower. The cloud of mist around it began to grow.

More shouting from the next estate. The vampire turned lazily. So did the monster. There were no words. The vampire raised one hand, pointed to the fence, and the thing was gone. Talia did not even see it leave beyond a swirl of the mist around it. She curled up even smaller. It could be coming for her. It could be right behind her. She would never hear it. It would just kill her, the way it killed that woman, ripping her apart while she was still alive and leaving her where she fell.

The vampire was gone a second later, vanishing in the same mist as that dog creature. Talia stayed, face pressed to the dirt, listening to the distant screaming. She imagined them growing more desperate, more distant. So many people were dying. She had to get out of the city. She had to find Ava and get them both out of the city. Together.

Okay. She had to do it. Stand up, and run for the canal. She had done it thousands of times. Probably even from this yard. She was good at this. The best. If anyone could do it, she could.

Before she could second guess herself, Talia forced herself into a crouch, got a firm grip on the crown, and started to move. She wriggled back through the bars, casting a terrified glance down the path and praying it was clear. Thick hedges on one side kept her from seeing into the grounds beyond while the yard she had just escaped was fairly open. She could still see where the woman had fallen. It looked close enough for her to reach out and touch, even being so far away.

Focus.

Her footfalls sounded like thunderclaps as she tore down the path. Or that could have just been her heartbeat. She forced herself not to look back, praying the sound of the monstrous dog chasing her was all in her head. It could not be behind her. She would be dead if it was.

She ran faster anyway.

The buildings blurred as she sprinted until she skidded to a stop at the edge of the canal. Suddenly her terror of being torn apart was fighting with her terror of being in the open. She couldn’t be here! But she had to keep running. That thing could find her at any second. And Ava was still out there.

She turned to run along the canal. Valen said he would be waiting in near the south wall. Talia knew the spot well enough. She could get there if she hurried.

One of the homes near the main gate exploded in fire. She could see all the way down the main street, from the edge of the markets to the distant city gates. Those gates were now splintered and burning, along with too many of the homes between her and the wall. Some of the streets were so brightly lit it could have been midday. It looked impossible. It felt impossible.

She could not think about it. None of it. They were going to survive this. They had to.

Something black melted away from the shadows. Something with four legs and glowing eyes. Talia froze, her heart stopping and eyes going wide. It was here. It found her.

Talia screamed. The creature did not snarl, only bared its fangs and lunged.

It was impossibly fast. Talia turned to the canal and ran for her life. She could jump. She had to –

It hit her the same way it had that woman. She felt the claws in her back. Teeth around her neck.

Someone shouted. There was a sharp zip and a loud thunk, then nothing.

The monster stopped moving. It still lay on top of her, heavy and sharp and terrifying, but it wasn’t moving. Was it dead? Was she dead?

There was more shouting behind her. Talia pulled herself off the ground enough to hear a woman’s voice above the din. “Someone grab her! Get her on her feet!”

They must have recognized her. Talia panicked, wriggling frantically beneath the dead thing lying as she tried to shove it off. If they brought her back to the Jarl, they would just kill her on sight. She couldn’t die here. Not while Ava still needed her.

Boots pounded on the stone beside her just as the monster finally rolled off to the side. Talia did not turn to see who was behind her. All that mattered was the canal. She pushed herself off the ground, flying toward the edge of the water and hurling herself into the air. Behind her came the surprised shouts of men just a few steps behind her. They were telling her to wait.

Whatever else they said was lost in the howl of the whistling of the wind as she fell toward the water, slamming into it with a deafening splash. It practically knocked the wind out of her but the sheer panic in her kept her from going limp. She sputtered, hacked, coughed, and clawed her way to the surface, dogpaddling her way to the stone ledge on the outside edge of the canal. The Ratway on the far side suddenly sounded so safe, so welcoming compared to the rest of the city. It would be quiet now. No one would be looking for her.

The guards on the street above did not follow her. She could not hear them anymore. Maybe that vampire had found them. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She had to get going. Ava was out in the middle of this. No one would be keeping her safe.

Scuttling along in the shadows, crown clutched tightly in one hand, Talia found her way almost to the docks before deciding it was safe enough to climb. She would be close to where Valen wanted to meet. She just had to climb the wall, get through the tenements of the far side, and find Ava. Then they could go home.

The old, familiar image of a little cottage in the woods calmed her enough to stop her hands from shaking. She forced herself to breath, to place one hand on the wall of the canal. She had to climb. She had to go back. Into the smoke and the fire, with vampires and monsters and evil men with swords.

She gripped the first brick, found the next handhold, and began to climb.


	32. Choices

Eira vaulted over the dead horse and swung Vengeance in a vicious arc, taking the startled vampire in the neck. The light of the burning wagon lit the road brightly enough that there would be no mistaking her for a vampire. Luckily for her, the hapless humans that would have seen her were more focused on staying alive.

Somewhere on the other side of the wagon, Serana was wreaking havoc, the sounds of her spells giving comfort to Eira as she pushed herself harder toward the next vampire. She had to move faster. She could save these people if she was just a little faster.

The next vampire was ready for her. Harkon’s legions were more comfortable with spells than swords but there were a few who knew how to hold a blade. This one brandished a small dagger like Serana’s, the sight of would normally have given Eira pause. She had seen what a terror Serana was with that thing, after all. Tonight, she went straight in, hoping to overwhelm the man before he could put that knife to use.

She feinted toward his legs, twisting her sword at the last moment into a furious stab at his throat. Once he was down, she -

He moved around the blade like mist. Eira was so startled, so focused on moving to the next target that she nearly lost her balance. The vampire came in swinging, the little blade coming within inches of Eira’s throat. She danced backward, stumbling as she tried to keep her feet.

The vampire did not waste a moment. He was on her, knife flashing in the dark, teeth gleaming like something out of a child's nightmare. Vengeance sparked as she fended off the flurry of blows, backpedaling toward the burning wagon in sudden desperation.

Serana was still on the other side of the fire. She would have her own troubles and no time to come and save Eira from her own stupid mistake. As Eira staggered back toward the fire, she listened to the whipcrack of lightning and the deep whoosh of fireballs lighting up the night. Damn it all, she needed help over there.

Eira planted her heel, stopping her retreat and startling the vampire. It was not enough to stop him from taking a good piece of her arm with a well-timed thrust, but the pain was better than being dead. Vengeance parried the next two strikes and Eira felt the momentum shifting. The vampire came in again, angry this time, and Eira saw her chance.

The knife bit into her side so painfully that Eira heard herself cry out, but her feint worked. Vengeance caught her opponent in the chest, punching through his chest and ending the little duel. Eira batted the knife away out of pure spite, ripping her blade from the dead man’s chest and watched him fall before turning back toward the fire.

Her side burned as she rounded the blazing wagon. The spells had mostly stopped. That must have meant Serana was winning. Good thing, too, since she wasn’t in much shape to help if things were going badly.

To anyone else, Serana would have looked completely inhuman and no doubt it would have pleased her, but Eira knew her too well. Two vampire mages, their hands aflame as they tried to burn all of Skyrim to ash, were at the end of their ropes. Desperate and horrified, they howled in rage every time Serana turned their spells against them. Their flames smashed into the ground, extinguishing themselves in the dirt or feeding a brush fire Serana had been stoking all around them. They were hemmed in by flames and they seemed unable to stop fighting long enough to put it out. They just kept screaming and throwing more fire.

Serana was winning, but Eira could tell she was suffering. When Serana fought, it was like a force of nature come alive. Everything flowed, from fire to ice to lightning, over and over, unstoppable and relentless. There was something beautiful about it, and Eira was not talking about the woman at its core. It just felt right, somehow. It was not desperate or hasty or even angry. It was just there.

Whatever it was that made her movements so perfect, it had deserted Serana tonight. Eira watched as the fires raged, as she carelessly speared a thrall with an ice spike so large it carried him off into the dark. It was wrong. That alone was more frightening than any display of natural power that Serana could conjure up.

At last the mages fell, the fires burning too hot for even their wards to shield. Even after they were gone, Serana let the flames linger, the heat rolling off them and washing over the road in waves. Eira hurried to the edge of the light to join her.

“Did we make it?” Eira asked as she drew near.

Serana did not need to answer. Eira could hear it just as well as she could. From the road rose the keening of a broken woman, hunched over the body of her child. Eira forced herself to look. This was her fault, her responsibility. This was all hers and she deserved to hear those cries.

“We did what we could,” Serana said quietly. “You saved her, at least. And her husband.”

The man hardly looked saved, one arm around his wife, his eyes empty and unmoving. Eira would have been the same way, in his position. What was the point when you had lost your family?

Eira cursed again and again under her breath. “She was just a kid. We should have been there - I should have been there.”

Serana was quiet. The flames had guttered out behind them to leave only the light of the wagon and the soft glow of the stars.

Eira gritted her teeth. “Gods damn it.”

“We can’t save them all, Eira.” Serana was using her most soothing voice, the one that sounded like the wind. Even now Eira found it impossible to stay angry when she heard it. “You said it yourself. We’re going to save everyone we can. And we did. We saved them. We gave them another chance.”

The woman’s cries told her exactly how much that chance was worth. Eira forced herself not to look away. Every sound was her fault. Every scream, every tear, every moment of helplessness was hers and hers alone. She wanted to close her eyes, put her hands over her ears, but she didn’t.

“Eira.” Serana grasped her gently just above her wrist. “We have to go.”

When Serana pulled, Eira followed. She hated herself for doing it. She should have stood there and listened. That was what she deserved. Instead, she let Serana lead her away, beyond the burning wagon and up the darkened road.

There was nothing to see out here, nothing to drown out the wailing cries of grief behind them. It took a lot of walking before they began to fade among the sparse trees and bubbling of the hot springs. This part of Skyrim had always struck Eira as the end of the world. Between the hissing of the hot springs, the burnt husks of trees and bleached mammoth bones the only breaks from the desolate crags, it seemed more like the Soul Cairn than a piece of the real world. Somewhere in the distance, a dragon roared to give voice to the comparison. This was not a place for living things.

Right now, it was exactly the sort of place that fit Eira’s mood.

Their road led them between the pools of blue-green water and off toward the west, where sharp cliffs rose up toward the fertile plains surrounding the White River and Whiterun just beyond. There they would find more vampires, more villages, more wailing mothers and fathers numb from grief. Serana had been right to insist on seeing every village, on fighting every battle between here and Solitude. Eira deserved to see them all.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Eira asked.

The cries of the woman had faded behind them and the song of the crickets had returned. Serana stopped on the trail but said nothing. She wasn’t looking at Eira but at another path leading off to the north. That road led to Windhelm and the northern coast of Skyrim.

She took her time staring off into the dark before speaking to Eira. “I remember Windhelm. I saw the harbor, once. There were ships as tall as the city walls and even more waiting for a berth. Is that still the way it is?”

Eira bit her tongue and answered. “Yes.”

“Do you think there are ships there now? With how things are going, I’ll bet there are a few with captains eager to be off. I’ll bet we could find one to take us anywhere in the world for whatever gold we have in our pockets. Maybe they’d even do it for free. What do you think?”

What was she getting at? Serana turned, waiting for Eira’s answer, a little smile playing at her lips. Even now, that tiny gesture made Eira feel at least a little better. “Yeah. I think so.”

“All we’d have to do is start walking. Just up this path, here.” Serana tilted her head toward the road, her eyes still fixed on Eira. “We’re right here, after all.”

Eira closed her eyes and sighed. “You know we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because we - I started this. This, all of this, is my fault.” Eira gestured wildly behind them, first toward the dead child and Riften and then toward every other in Skyrim, sweeping her hand over the horizon to encompass all the pain and death she had caused. “I can’t just pretend it isn’t happening. I had the bow, Serana. I gave it to him. If I hadn’t, if I’d just stopped him or heard him coming or - Gods, anything but what I did. This is my fault. I can’t leave. You can - you should, actually. This isn’t something you need to see.”

Serana’s face remained calm, that little smile never moving. It made Eira feel like a child, unwilling to clean up the mess she had made. She felt hopeless and angry and furious that it had ever come to this. She should have been the one stabbed in the chest, not Serana. Serana would have made the right choice. She wouldn’t have even been forced to choose. That assassin would have been dead before he knew what hit him and Eira would be alive and they would still have the bow. That little girl back there would still be alive.

“You’re a very passionate woman, aren’t you?”

“How should I be right now?” Eira asked, deflated and feeling ever more like a child under Serana’s gaze. “I can’t stop thinking about it. There are thousands of families that will go through that tonight. No matter how fast we run, how soon we stop Harkon, how many cities we pass through, there are just too many. And I did that. I hurt them. I chose your life over all of them and I can’t even say that I wouldn’t do it again because I would. Every time. I can’t lose you. I can’t make that choice.”

Saying it aloud, Eira could scarcely hear herself in her words. She heard someone else, someone that had woken up in the Imperial City gutters, her clothing stained with drink and her throat hoarse from sobbing. She heard that low, hopeless creature that she had tried so hard to kill only to have it come back stronger every time. It was not even a human voice and it was certainly not the voice of something Eira wanted to be. Not again, and not around Serana.

She had thought she had at last seen it die. She had thought Serana had slain it for her. That was how it worked between them. Eira was not the survivor. Serana had her own hopeless creature to fight and she had survived it. She could survive anything.

Serana, the woman Eira had tried so hard to save, and the woman who had tried so hard to save Eira from herself, cradled Eira with her gaze. Just from looking at her, Eira felt the world under her feet again. It was amazing how she did that. She made her feel so small but at the same time like nothing could stop her. Every time she felt like she was stumbling, Serana was there to hold her up.

When Serana finally spoke, it was in the voice of the wind. “I’ve lived for a very long time, Eira. I’ve had to make a lot of terrible choices and know that I’ll go on living for thousands of years, remembering what I’d done. For one moment, Eira, you were the center of everything, and you had to make one of those terrible choices. I don’t envy you for that. And I know that it wasn’t your choice to be there. Someone else forced that choice on you. I don’t blame you for that. Do you? When we first met, I saw you fighting that draugr and I knew you were going to die. Should I blame you for giving me that choice? Should I blame the draugr? I don’t. We were all in that arena for someone else's reasons, someone else's master plan. All that we were given was a choice, and the choice I made was to save you. When the axe struck me instead, you made the choice to Heal me. You saved me.”

Part of Eira wanted to tell her she was wrong but she could find no voice of her own. She wanted to listen, to believe in what Serana was telling her. Maybe she should. Maybe she was right.

“When we were in the Vale, and you saw me bleeding, you had to choose again. It was either me or the world. For you, Eira, after everything you suffered, I could imagine no harder choice. You could have refused to choose. You could have tried to kill him before bringing me back from death. Maybe you would have done it, I don’t know. Even if I had died, everything could have been over. No more fighting. No more prophecy. It would have ended with you and Auriel’s Bow. But you chose to save me. And you did it knowing what it would bring. You knew this road would be hard but you chose to take it all the same.”

“There was nothing you could have done to save everyone. Even if you had never found me, Harkon would not have waited in his castle forever. There would still have been death. It might even have been you, if you’d walked away from Dimhollow alone. None of this was yours, Eira. The only thing that belongs to you are the lives you've saved tonight. Right now, we both have a choice. We could walk away. We could go somewhere far away, somewhere Harkon would never find us, and I have no trouble imagining that those would be the best days of my very long life. But we’re not running, are we? We’re staying and fighting. We might lose everything tonight. Every time we choose to fight, there’s a chance one of us won’t come back. You know that just as well as I do.”

She did know it. That was why she wanted Serana to leave. If one of them was going to fall, it should be Eira. Whatever Serana said, the choice had been hers and hers alone. At least, that was what she wanted to think.

“I don’t think that’s an easy choice to make. Do you?”

Eira managed to shake her head. “No. It isn’t.”

That little smile began tugging at Serana’s lips again. “So I’ll ask you, Eira, to make another choice. Where do we go from here? We have two paths before us. Do we keep fighting? Or do we turn our backs on all this? I’ll follow you wherever you go because I know you’ll make the right choice. I trust you with that, Eira. I always will.”

She was right, of course. Serana always was. Eira had made her choice, and right or wrong, she would make the same one every time. She could walk back down the road behind her, toward the cries of a broken family and tell herself she deserved to hear them. She might even be right. She could go north, to Windhelm and its harbor and its promise of an escape. No one would ever follow them. No one would even know their names after tonight. They could forget about everything except each other and spend the rest of their lives in bliss.

Or she could take the western road, toward Whiterun and Solitude and, beyond, Castle Volkihar.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever been to Whiterun, have we?”

“No, we have not.”

Eira nodded. “Well, we’ll have to change that. The market is lovely this time of year.”

Serana chuckled. “Really? I’ve heard the crowds are murder.”

“That’s why we’re going. I know how much you love a good fight.”

She gave Eira a knowing look. “One of my two great loves in life.”


	33. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia finds the Dawnguard survivors near the Bunkhouse. Talia bargains for Ava's life.

“Captain!”

Alicia felt her whole body cringe as her stomach abruptly filled with angry bees. Her vision narrowed temporarily to a point and it took all her willpower to keep from screaming.

Isran, oblivious to all this, walked right up to her and kept right on talking. “It’s good you finally made it. I did what I could defending the Bunkhouse but the fire was too much. Even for me. I sent runners to the palace to ask for mages but no one has returned. Bloodsuckers probably got them.”

What mages he hoped would come riding to the rescue was not clear but experience told Alicia not to ask. “Who made it out?”

“Only those who could pull their weight in the fight. Some of the new recruits ran off at the first sign of trouble. Damn cowards. Some of the older ones ran, too. That’s why we need you here. We need leadership from the front. The more the better. They need to see these monsters can be beaten!”

Behind Isran came the rest of the big three. Sorine looked about as thrilled as she always did, though in all fairness this was probably not as bad as she had expected. The woman had a outlook that made even Eira’s dour face seem happy. Gunmar followed behind, his arm badly burned and his trademark maul missing from his shoulders. He had worked hard training those trolls for battle only to have them burned to ash in their pens. He had not taken their loss well.

Alicia surveyed the makeshift command post and was pleased to recognize a few faces in the crowd. A veteran in the Dawnguard was anyone who had survived more than five minutes of fighting against the vampires but even with that low bar there were precious few who could claim the title. It was good to see at least a few friends had made it.

“That damned Eira woman,” Isran growled, his sword scraping along the ground. “If I ever see her again, I’ll skin her alive. Or maybe I’ll start with her vampire. I warned her what would happen if she failed.”

Well, Isran had given them every possible assistance short of actually helping them at all. “Sun hasn’t gone out yet,” was all Alicia allowed herself to say.

Isran snorted. Unlike Alicia, he had condemned Eira’s actions the moment they involved not murdering a vampire, no matter how helpful she had proved to be. “They have failed. Look around. People are dying. Vampires are everywhere. Fort Dawnguard has fallen. But I can appreciate that attitude, Captain. Keep that optimism. Remember that they haven’t won yet. Convey that to your soldiers and you’ll make a fine leader. We will see the sun again, and we’ll see these bastards burn for what they’ve done.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her soldiers, such as they were, needed someone much better than her if they were going to survive this. Poor slobs.

“Sorine! Gunmar! We have vampires to kill! Captain, I leave the men in your capable hands. Gather everyone you can. We must strike at the heart of the vampires before it is too late. Take a force with you into the slums and lead the charge. I have the utmost faith in you. Be strong! This is the time of the Dawnguard!”

Isran’s voice rose to a fever pitch as he shouted the final line in Alicia’s eulogy. Without another word, the man marched into the smoke and darkness, his two unhappy companions close behind.

“If ever the Gods have loved us, that man will never come back.”

One of those few veterans Alicia had spoken of walked up beside her, careful to keep his voice low. She shook her head. “Vampires won’t kill him, that’s for sure. With him throwing us into their jaws like mutton, he’s the best commander they’ve got.”

As though listening to their blasphemy, the gods proceeded to push one of the tenement houses over in the street Isran had just taken. Alicia waited. Her friend waited. The smoke wafted and the sound of clashing steel filled the air.

“Do you think -”

“FOR THE DAWNGUARD!”

Alicia groaned aloud. “That’s why you don’t ask. You never ask. That’s how these things work.”

Her friend turned, his sandy blonde hair and boyish expression a permanent contrast to Alicia’s squint and scowl. “Sorry, Captain. Didn’t realize you were an expert on the transmundane.”

“Shove it. I’ve got work for you to do.”

“Well, it’s good to see you, too.”

Alicia held up a finger. “As much as I’d love to say the same, your sorry face might be the last one I see on this earth, and between you and me, I think the gods owe me someone easier on the eyes.”

“Joined up for the pretty girls, did you?”

Her inspiration for joining had actually been much more attractive than her current company, but that was beside the point. “The recruiter made promises you grubby sods can’t keep. Okay. Isran wants us to kill vampires. I want Riften to have people living in it by morning. We’re going to do both. You’re going to get everyone here back to the market. Clear a path back so we can regroup and keep everyone in the city from getting eaten alive. Then we can talk about taking the fight to the vampires or whatever it is that windbag wants us to do.”

“Your insubordination inspires me, ma’am.”

“Good, because I don’t see it ending anytime soon.”

The man-boy cocked his head. “And where will you be going?”

Alicia sighed unhappily. “Windbag wants me to lead a patrol into the slums, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

Her friend turned toward that side of town, his features suddenly etched with worry. “You can’t be serious. It’s a mess over there.”

“Lead from the front, be the tip of the spear. Those were my orders.” Alicia spared the burning district a sympathetic glance. “This might not be the nicest part of town but the people here are still people. I’m not leaving them to get killed just because it’s safer to leave them be. Don’t give me that look. I’ll take volunteers only. You take your best, get them set up, clear us a way back to the market. With any luck, I’ll be back before you miss me.”

“And if not, ma’am?”

The worry was plain in his voice but Alicia did not feel like addressing it. He shouldn’t have been worried at all. “Find the old man. He’s bringing whoever’s left at the palace. Just stick with him and you’ll be alright.”

Alicia saluted and started across the command post. The street running west would take her right into the heart of the smoking, burning mess that was this half of the city. She could hear her friend barking orders behind her, or trying to, at least; he didn’t have the voice for barking. Completely ignoring her comment about volunteers, he assigned his best to go with her, though he did quite a bit of shouting about how they were doing it of their own free will. Idiot.

It was made all the worse when she recognized a few of the faces in the crowd. Alicia had walked through the front gate with her, sat at the table with him, trained in the yard with her and her friends. She hadn’t seen some of them since the fort and now they were here, ready to toss themselves into the fire over nothing.

Her soldiers arrayed themselves around her, crossbows and short swords held like bad props in a cut-rate play. She wanted to tell them to go home. She wanted them to be safe.

“Alright, listen up. We’re moving back toward the market to keep the people there safe but the vampires here have other plans. They’ve got this placed closed off on all sides but ours and that means everyone living here is about to wake up on a vampire’s dinner plate. We’re going to make sure that plate is empty. We’re going into the slums and we’re going to pull out anyone who’s still breathing. I don’t care who they are or what they were before tonight, we’re getting them out. You’ve all seen what these vampires can do. No one deserves that and Oblivion will take me before I let it happen without a fight. Understand?”

The actors stood up a little straighter, cradled their weapons a little tighter. They almost looked convincing. About half remembered to salute.

Alicia nodded. “Then move out.”

Her soldiers funneled into the alleyway, climbing over the small barricade as they signed goodbyes to their friends on watch. They were rabbits marching into a den of wolves ready to whip hell out of the whole pack. It made Alicia proud even as it infuriated her. These were her people, her children. She wanted them alive, not bronzed like heroes.

As they started their march into the darkness of the slums, Alicia spared a thought for the poor souls living here. She could hear them screaming. Between the explosions, crumbling buildings, and the clash of steel, every now and then a helpless, terrified scream of someone coming face to face with certain death. That was what drove her on. Her children at least had swords. They could bloody a vampire before it got them and that might save a dozen of the people here. That was why they had all joined up, wasn’t it?

Staring into an open doorway, she wondered if that girl was in here somewhere. Diving into the canal like that; the girl must have been out of her head with terror. Well, she supposed she could understand that. Not many people survived being inside a Death Hound’s jaws. She should have handled it better. Shouting for her men to grab her had probably spooked the poor thing.

“Ma’am?”

Alicia turned to see a girl standing beside her. Before she could stop herself, she asked “What is it, Kara?”

Kara smiled and hopefully missed the pained wince that crossed Alicia’s face. She tried to keep things impersonal after what happened at the fort. “Didn’t think you still remembered me.”

“Of course I do,” Alicia said, eyes on the shadows as they walked. She wished she didn’t. It would make things a lot easier. “Trained together our first day. I must have walked through the gate just after you did. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, ma’am. Just wanted to say I’m glad you’re here. Glad you made it. Didn’t get the chance with everything going on.”

“It’s been a busy day. Don’t worry, we’ll catch up once this is over.”

The brusque dismissal left her feeling guilty but Alicia really wanted this conversation to be over. She had to order this woman to fight for her life and maybe even to die. She couldn’t be thinking about how strange that first day had been. How good it had felt to have a friend in such a strange place. She didn’t want to remember how they had stayed up talking that night, sharing why they had joined and -

Kara was turning away when Alicia sighed. “Do you have everything you need? Bolts? Water? You can go back to the market if you want. We could always use more people on those bridges.”

The girl grinned. “Wouldn’t miss going off to battle with Captain Seroven. I know you’ll steer us right.”

For a moment, Alicia did not connect herself with the name and felt compelled to ask which of her relatives had gotten so famous. Gods, this was strange. Two days ago she had been dodging curfew to gamble with Kara and her friends. They’d stolen mead from Riften and were playing cards in one of the empty storerooms. She wished she could just tell that to someone. Maybe she could tell Kara. Not now, of course, they were a little busy at the moment, but when things quieted down. And they were alone. It wouldn’t do to have anyone else hear her human side.

“Was just thinking about that girl, actually,” Kara continued. “The one you saved. We heard about her. Went for a swim after you shot that Hound out of the air.”

Alicia shook her head. “Who told you that?”

Kara shrugged. “Word got around. Hell of a shot, that. Shame the girl ran off.”

“We’ll find her.” Alicia said it with conviction but she had no idea where it came from. If that girl had any sense she would have kept right on swimming to the lake and away from this nightmare. “If she’s still in the city, we’ll drop as many Hounds as it takes to keep her and everyone else still breathing. Vampires got the drop on us but time is on our side. Once that sun comes up, we’ve won.”

“Well you’ve got all of us here with you, ma’am.” Kara gave her a friendly smile. “Almost called you Alicia. Feels like I’m talking to someone… bigger. Don’t know if it fits you anymore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Alicia grumbled, failing to hide a smile. “It’s rude to jab at your commander’s weight. Go on, now. Keep your eyes open.”

Kara nodded and moved off to one side, crossbow still held a little too awkwardly. She needed more time to get used to the weight. They all did. At least she was staying off to the side and not running out front. Alicia was worried enough about her. She didn’t need to be staring at her back, waiting for something bad to happen.

Two more alleys. That was as far as they got. Alicia was walking near the front, convinced she was ready, when it all came crashing down.

They fell off the damn rooftops. She watched Kara die in the first moments. The girl she had trained with on her first day, the girl she had shared so many secrets with, was crushed under a vampire leaping from the roof. She didn’t even cry out. Her helmet was off a moment later and the monster was ripping into her neck before she could make a sound.

Alicia screamed for her, putting a bolt in the monster’s back before ripping her short sword from its sheathe. Thrall after thrall came howling out of the smoke. Dawnguard soldiers turned to meet them, cutting them down as they charged, but there were too many. Alicia charged in like a woman possessed, sword raised in defiance. She had to save her people. She couldn’t watch more of them die.

She hoped she sounded bigger as she charged into the fray, screaming to the corners of Oblivion.

 

“There she is. Come out where I can see you, girl. I haven’t got all night.”

Talia forced herself to step out of the shadows and into the orange light of the courtyard. The buildings all around were crackling with flames as bright as the sun, giving Talia nowhere to hide. But she couldn’t hide from this. She had to be brave.

There were fourteen men she could see. She had taken her time counting them in the shadows before she had been seen. Or maybe she had been allowed to count them, to know there was nothing she could do against so many. That bastard had probably let her see everything, waiting long enough for the hopelessness to sink in once more before finally calling to her. It was just like him to play with her head like that. Gods, she hated him.

The fourteen men sneered at her as she passed. Enforcers from the Ratway, they had nothing in this world except a desperate, animal desire to make other people hurt. Most carried cudgels. Swords were too quick and were harder to use than a really big stick. And cudgels were better for breaking bones. These men seemed to like leaving their victims helpless and broken. They liked to play with their food.

“Come closer, girl. Are you here to give up? I told you before, begging won’t get you anything. Though I wouldn’t mind seeing you try again. I liked watching you grovel. And Ava here could use the company. Isn’t that right?”

Ava hit the ground in a heap, her soft and wavy hair now splayed over her battered arms in a tangled mess. Talia felt her teeth sink into her lip. She couldn’t go to her. Not now. That would just make everything worse. She couldn’t be weak.

Her eyes rose as coldly as they could, slowly meeting the gaze of the man she hated more than anyone else in this world. Valen stood over Ava’s whimpering body, his meaty hands forming fists as he looked from Talia to the girl he had tortured. She had once joked that Valen had the mind of a rabid dog and the body of a plump Horker. The words felt hollow now. Valen was a dragon. He could kill them both with his voice. One shout and they would both die here.

Valen shook with laughter. “Come on, then. Out with it. Did you give up? I’ll bet you couldn’t do it. Got scared when the big, bad guards came out. You didn’t even make it to the door. I should have just killed you. At least Ava here is good for something. There’s always a use for a pretty girl. Isn’t that right, boys?”

The men around them laughed on command but Talia did not need to look at them to know there was no mirth in their eyes. Ava was just more food for them to play with, just another helpless girl for them to leave broken in the darkness of an alley.

Talia gritted her teeth and stared Valen in the eyes. “I have it.”

That got his disgusting eyes to widen. He could hardly keep the drool from his lips. “Did you, now? You, a little nothing-to-nobody managed to get into the palace? You can’t lie to me, girl. Don’t waste my time. If you’re going to beg, do it. Get down on the ground with your little friend and beg.”

She could have run. If he had not found Ava, she could have run. Maybe she could have stolen the crown and traded it to someone for help. The guards could have come and saved Ava. Or the Companions. Someone.

Of course there was no one. No one would help a thief, no matter what she had to trade. She was alone.

The crown emerged from one of her cloak pockets, still wet from the canal but gleaming even brighter for it. The emerald shone brilliantly green in the firelight, putting to shame every dirt-covered face in the square. It knew it did not belong here. It knew everyone here was beneath it. It knew, and it shone defiantly even as Talia offered it to the worst of the lot.

Valen actually stared for a moment, stunned at the sight of it. Low mutters began to pass between the men behind her. No one had thought she could actually do it. They had thought it was impossible. Ava would be theirs and Talia would have either fled in shame or been forced to come back and beg, just like Valen had wanted.

“I told you.”

The voice was strained and gasping, but it was hers. Ava was peering up from the ground, her eyes shining through the curtain of her frayed and twisted hair. She was smiling? How could she be smiling when this was all Talia’s fault? After everything they had done to her, she was still smiling.

“I told you she’d do it. I –“

“Shut up!” Valen snapped. He looked away from the crown long enough to give Ava a vicious kick in the ribs.

Talia heard her own voice rising as Ava yelped. “I got you the crown. I did what you asked. Just let her go.”

“Why should I?” Valen asked, still baring his yellowed teeth. “You were stupid enough to bring it to me. I could just take it from you. Any one of us could. I don’t even have to do it myself.”

He was right. She should have hidden it. “We had a deal.”

She tried to keep the desperation from her voice but to her own ears it rang like a bell. Ava, no longer smiling, was curled in a ball, arms folded around where Valen had kicked her. The monster himself stood over her, towering, all-powerful, and full of hate. He looked furious. Just because someone had talked back to him. Because Talia had not begged like he wanted.

Slowly, a horrifying sneer overtook him. “We did. Her life for that bauble you’re holding.”

He took one step backward, away from Talia and from Ava’s shivering body. Talia did not move.

Valen’s laughed from somewhere deep in his gut. “Come on, now. What’s that saying about honor among thieves? I gave you my word, didn’t I?”

Quiet, hateful laughter began to spread, coming from the throats of all those men watching hungrily as Talia clutched feverishly at the crown. This was supposed to keep her safe. This was all going wrong.

But she had to try. Ava looked up, her hair parting enough to let Talia see her face. She was so bruised. Her eyes were red, her cheeks black and blue. She had been crying. Talia felt her teeth grinding, her knuckles going white. This was the only way. Whatever happened, she had to try. She had to save Ava.

So she started walking. Valen laughed even louder. “Good girl! Looks like you can be trained. Come on, come here. Bring me the crown.”

Talia would have done far worse than fetch to keep Ava safe. She could stand him mocking her, even whistling at her like he was calling a dog.

Ava was watching her from the ground. She looked terrified even as she tried to smile. Talia forced her feet to keep going. It would be over soon. What was Valen going to do, take her back to the Ratway? Make her steal something else to keep Ava safe? The city was full of vampires. There probably wouldn’t even be a city in the morning. She just had to survive. She could take Ava and escape. The vampires wouldn’t notice two humans getting away when there were hundreds still inside the walls.

She kept walking until she was beside Ava. Valen crouched down just enough to bring his face level with hers. “Come on, girl. Give it here. There’s a good girl.”

His face was so close. If she could make herself Quiet for just a moment, she could have reached out and shoved her knife right in his face.

That wouldn’t have worked. Valen was all-powerful here. He had too many cronies. He had Ava. And now, he had the crown. Talia reached out and placed it in his waiting palm, the most valuable thing she had ever held in her hands.

But not the most beautiful or nearly the most precious. Ava was safe.

Her vision went white. She heard Valen’s fist hit her before she felt it, the crack of bone as his knuckles struck her cheek. Suddenly she was on the ground, blinking in shock.

No! No, no this was wrong! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!

Valen was laughing again, bellowing his laughter for all to hear. Ava was crying. There was more laughter from all around Talia as she tried to pick herself up off the stone.

“Did you really think I’d just let you walk away?” Valen’s boots scraped against the stone as he came closer, looming over her with a hateful sneer. “After you stole this for me?”

He held the crown up to the light, marveling at the gemstones and intricate lacings of gold and silver. Talia picked herself up enough to roll onto her back. “Please. Take it. Just let me have Ava.”

Valen’s eyes turned contemptuous as stared down his nose at Talia. “What was it I said, girl, when you first came here? There’s always a use for a pretty girl. Ava learned that. And you, well, we’ll be sure to find a use for you, too.”

Talia launched herself at Valen, her vision going red. She was going to tear him apart with her bare hands. She –

Someone grabbed her by the shoulders. More hands caught her arms, pinning them to her back. She cried out as one of them twisted and forced her to her knees.

“Look around you, girl. This whole city’s going up in smoke. The guards and those idiot Dawnguard will spend the night fighting and in the morning they’ll all be corpses. But us? We’ll be far away. Far away from all this. Got a ship at the docks right now loaded with all kinds of exciting things. We’ll head north, maybe see how Windhelm is this time of year. I hear it’s lovely. And the Stormcloaks won’t care about a couple no-good thieves from Riften. I hear they buy girls like you by the dozen. You’re nothing to them. Just a few hours of good fun.”

Tears of pure rage began clouding Talia’s eyes. Someone clamped her wrists together with one hand and started tying them together, the rope biting into her more and more as he worked. There was nothing she could do. She had done everything right. She had tried so hard to save her.

“I’m sorry,” Talia whispered. Ava was shaking her head but Talia ignored her. “I’m so sorry. I tried. I really did.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet,” Valen growled, wandering over to where Ava was still sprawled on the ground. “Now you, Ava dear, you’ve got a bright future with us. Look at you. What on earth are you doing with a girl like her? Could have had any one of the boys here and you’d be on the winning side. We’d have treated you right. I am sorry about… well, all the things that happened, really. It was a lot, wasn’t it? See, it’s her fault, really. Little – it is Talia, isn’t it? She’s been such a pain for us. Taking what isn’t hers, making us look like idiots. She’s got talent. She could have gone far with us. Hell, just imagine if you had both just joined up sooner. Talia would be famous and you, well, you’d have had a much nicer day.”

The man finished with Talia’s wrists, leaving her to stare at Ava, helpless. It was all her fault. She should have just given them what they wanted. Ava would have been safe. They both would have been safe.

“Alright, get them up.” Valen motioned toward the docks. Someone yanked at Talia’s arm, hauling her to her feet. “We’ve got a long voyage coming up and I don’t want them too tuckered out to be any fun.”

He reached down and grabbed Ava by her arm. She gritted her teeth but didn’t cry out. Talia watched through bleary eyes as she met his eyes.

Someone screamed. Not a normal, terrified scream, but the scream of someone being eaten alive.

Talia whirled. One of those dog monsters had snuck in and had taken Valen’s men by surprise. He was still screaming as it grabbed him by the throat and shook. Talia stared in stunned silence as it fed. She didn’t even feel anything. It didn't matter. None of it did. She had failed.

Now everyone else was screaming. Men charged the dog but it was faster. It grabbed another man, dragging him to the ground with another ear-splitting scream. The first man wasn’t even dead yet. He kept screaming. And Talia just watched.

Then Valen screamed, and Talia woke up.

She turned to see Ava on top of him. She was holding a knife and he was screaming, trying to push her away. There was blood on his face and hands. Where had she gotten the knife?

Ava hit the ground, hair flying as she started toward Talia. She was still holding the knife. Talia wondered numbly if she was going to use it on her next. That would be fine. This was all Talia’s fault, anyway. She’d rather die here than watch whatever Valen had planned for them in Windhelm. She’d rather one of the dogs got her.

“What are you waiting for?” Ava shouted, grabbing Talia by the scruff of her cloak and dragging her away. “We need to run! Come on!”

Talia stumbled on something. She tried to catch herself but her hands were still tied behind her. Rolling over and scrambling to her feet, she saw the body of the man who had tied the rope around her wrists. There was something black on top of him. Something that looked human but was too small. Like a child. There was a child on top of him. Eating him. What –

“Come on!” Ava grabbed her and yanked. Talia stumbled, her knee scraping on the ground.

She felt herself start to tumble. “Ava -”

But Ava kept her from falling. “Hurry! I’m not leaving you here!”


	34. Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping Valen, Ava and Talia run deeper into the slums

"Shh! Someone's coming!" Ava pulled Talia into an empty building, breathing hard as she pushed her against the wall.

Talia let herself be pushed, paying more attention to Ava then to the footsteps outside. She tried to reach up and touch the bruises on her neck, her wrists now chafing as she struggled with the rope. There were so many bruises, so many little cuts. And Ava was the one saving her. It was supposed to be the other way around. Talia had gotten her into this mess and she had not even been able to save her from it.

Boots pounded on the street outside, heavy and angry. They waited together in silence, Ava watching the door, Talia watching her.

At last Ava relaxed. “I think they’re gone.”

Without waiting for Talia to say anything, Ava lunged at her, wrapping her in a bear hug and squeezing the life out of her. Talia bit her lip to keep from crying out as her arms were pinched against her sides even more. “Ava –“

“You’re alive. You’re alive, you’re alive. I thought I’d never see you again. They told me what they did. They told me they’d sent you into the palace all alone. I can’t believe you did that. What were you thinking? What if they’d found you?” Ava’s words ran together as she held Talia, her hands going from her arms to her sides to her hair, pushing it back behind her ears as she looked her over.

Talia tried to smile. “I was just trying to impress you.”

Ava beamed, pulling her closer and kissing her on the forehead. “Well it didn’t work. You can impress me by never doing anything like that again.”

That was just fine with her. Sneaking into the palace had been a rush and stealing the crown had made her feel more alive than she had in years, but seeing Ava on the ground like that, watching Valen kick her, all of it had made her remember why she had done it at all. Everything she had done that night was for Ava. If they got out of here alive, she would not complain about doing honest labor for the rest of her life. Just as long as Ava was safe, she would do anything to keep it that way.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been thinking about retirement for a while now.”

Ava scoffed as she looked over Talia’s arms, her fingers picking at her shirt to see the scrapes and bruises underneath. “Well it’s about time if you ask me. For what it’s worth, I think robbing the Jarl of Riften makes for an excellent story of how you stole your very last prize. Kind of romantic, isn’t it? I think so, but I’m a little biased.”

She paused, suddenly looking concerned. She bent her head and looked Talia in the eye. “They didn’t hurt you did they? I know Valen found you. He told me… he made you –“

“I’m fine,” Talia cut her off, managing a smile of her own. “He didn’t do anything. Gods, look at yourself, Ava. What happened to you?”

“They just roughed me up a little. It’s nothing.” Ava flipped her hair and kept looking at Talia’s little scrapes instead of her own injuries. “They just talked big when you were there. Put on a show to scare you, that’s what Valen told them. I’m alright, Talia. I promise.”

Talia could always tell when Ava was lying. She felt her hands balling up into fists, the rope biting into her wrists as she fidgeted. “I hope those cuts you gave him sting.”

“You should have been the one to finish him,” Ava said with a sigh. “After everything he’s done. It’s a shame the vampires got to him first.”

They both paused, the same, awful thought occurring at the same time. Talia tried to make a joke of it. “I don’t know. I’m not sure even a vampire would be that desperate. They probably have standards.”

“He’s a big meal,” Ava said, forcing herself to laugh. “They probably fought over him. Big bastard like that could feed two or three of them for a week.”

“Let’s hope so. I’m still not sure how we’re going to get out of here.”

Ava gave her a warm smile, straightening the edges of her tattered shirt. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Talia, master thief, knower of the Ratway?”

It was true. No one knew the Ratway like Talia. So many people lived down there but none of them seemed to care about where the tunnels actually went. Those that did were often never seen again, so maybe she couldn’t blame them, but to her it was obvious. You walked down a tunnel, saw where it went, remembered which way you came. Was it so hard for everyone else?

“This is the part where I save the damsel in distress?” Talia asked with a grin. “Feels like I’m the one locked in the tower.”

Ava cocked her head curiously until Talia wiggled her still-bound wrists into view. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t even – here, let me get those bindings off you.”

“We can look around for a knife. I think this was a bar or –“

“Way ahead of you.” Ava took her by the arm and turned her around. Talia craned her neck over her shoulder to see Ava pulling a knife from her belt.

“Valen’s?”

“Well I wasn’t about to give it back,” she said, setting the edge to the rope and smirking. “Although I really should return it sometime. Put it somewhere he’ll never lose it again.”

“You’re making me nervous, talking like that,” Talia said, nodding awkwardly to the rather sharp blade now a hair’s breadth from her skin.

Ava gave her a look. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not when you’re thinking about Valen.”

She paused briefly, then nodded, conceding the point. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Talia watched her begin to saw at the rope. From the way her hands were bound, if she slipped from where she was cutting, Talia would be getting another nasty scratch from her already-eventful evening. But she trusted Ava, and she knew she was being careful about it. A moment later she was free, the rope falling away as she worked her wrists out of the loops.

The rope had not even hit the ground before Talia had wrapped herself around Ava’s neck. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“No,” Ava whispered, holding Talia as she tried not to weep. “It wasn’t you. You saved me.”

“I didn’t. You saved us, not me. You shouldn’t have even been there. They came for you because of me. It was all my fault. Everything they did to you.” Talia pressed her face into her hair, squeezing until she was buried in Ava’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come on,” Ava soothed, trying in vain to get Talia to let go. “It’s alright. It’s over. They’re gone. It’s just us now. And now, you can save me. We can’t stay here with the vampires and guards and whatever else is out there tonight. We need to get somewhere safe. Like the Ratway.”

Talia nodded into her shoulder, at last forcing herself to leave the comfort of Ava’s closeness. “Okay.”

Ava smiled. “Don’t worry so much. It’ll be like old times. Remember?”

She did remember. It seemed a lifetime away, before Talia had even heard of Valen and the Thieves Guild had been trying to recruit her. If there had ever been a normal time in her life, a time where things had been good, that was it. The market had been sleepy, the shops content. The Thieves Guild was nothing more than a memory, its legendary run of bad luck reducing it to a few flinty survivors. A girl with quick fingers and quiet feet could have the world in her pockets, so long as the pockets were small and the girl not too greedy.

“You tried to steal that urn,” Talia said, remembering their first meeting with a sudden grin. “From the Prawn?”

“Yes, I remember, thank you.”

“And it was so heavy you – why were you even after it? You could have had anything. There was gold – actual gold – on the counter. It was right there.”

Ava was rolling her eyes and shooing her away. “Yes, yes, I know. Thank you for reminding me. We’ll see who unties you next time someone catches you.”

Talia thought of several inappropriate jokes she wanted to make about rope but she had other things on her mind. “Did you know I followed you that night?”

“Did you now?”

“Mmhm.” Talia rocked back and forth on her heels. “You went out through the tunnels by the docks. I was sitting in one of the little hiding places by the opening. You walked right by me.”

Ava chuckled. “Didn’t know what I was missing.”

“I saw you jump into the lake and swim over to the fishery. I thought you were going to get caught but you just walked right in.”

“They thought I worked in the fishery. Probably got that idea from the smell,” Ava said wryly.

“I remember being so impressed. You were invisible to them.”

“I was. Just grabbed a fishing pole and a really nasty cleaning knife no one had actually bothered to clean.” Ava shrugged. “Good thing you came along though. I don’t know how I would have explained that urn. I, uh, didn’t think about that part of the job. Probably would have just run for the canal and hoped no one saw me.”

“You always did get by on your looks, didn’t you?” Talia teased, sauntering closer.

“Those looks worked on you, so who’s the clever one now?”

Something boomed outside. Both of them jumped, suddenly remembering where they were.

Men shouted in one of the neighboring alleys. They weren’t anywhere close, at least not from the sound of it, but they were still out there. Whoever they were, they would not be friendly to a few thieves hiding out in the dark.

Talia forced herself back to the present, away from the ethereal gold of her happy memories. She forced herself to look around the abandoned building Ava had hidden them both inside. There were a lot of people in the streets tonight. She needed to be at her best.

The abandoned building looked like a tavern that had been squished down and smashed with a hammer, leaving it lopsided and uninviting. All the tables were shoved into the corners, leaving a large space that might have been for dancing if the floorboards were not so warped. It took her a moment to notice the large ring drawn in the dust, the benches shoved out of sight, the bloodstains clinging to the splinters on the ground. It was not even well-hidden. Places like this usually sprang up underground or outside the city limits. They must have been well within the slums, now. In a way, the Ratway was safer than these forgotten alleys, assuming you knew your way around.

Ava was quietly loping between boarded-up windows, peering through the cracks for just a moment before scuttling further down the wall. Talia padded behind the bar and started creeping along the wall. Places like this would have – there! Behind one of the black-stained bottles was a peephole, giving a perfect view of the alley behind the bar. There was nothing to see. Flames now rose from the buildings just across the street but even in their bright light Talia could not find anyone living.

Clashing steel and the desperate shouts of men fighting for their lives still drifted through the walls, buzzing about like flies just at the edge of her vision. The sounds were jarring even from so far away. Ava finished her walk around the far side of the tavern and loped back to Talia.

“How long do you think we should stay here?” she asked.

Talia shifted and looked toward the shouting. She tried to imagine the soldiers fighting against the vampires in the dark. It must have been terrifying. She could not imagine going up against monsters like that, especially at night.

“We can’t stay here,” she said, thinking out loud more than giving an answer. “I want to go back to the Ratway. At least there we know where we’re going down there. Whatever is out there, I don’t think it came for anything in the sewers. Let them fight it out. We can hide.”

“You think we’ll be safe down there?”

She did, but Ava did not look convinced, so she kept thinking. “We could leave. Just like old times, right? Go to the docks, swim for shore, hide out in the woods until this all blows over.”

“The woods,” Ava said with a laugh. “Are you an experienced ranger, too?”

Talia blushed. She had a point. “I think there’s a village to the south. Just a little mining town. The guards always talk about it. I think it’s called Shor’s Stone?”

Ava nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it. I thought it was far away. Almost to the mountains.”

“I don’t know,” Talia admitted unhappily. She had never actually seen a map or met anyone who had been there. “The guards always say it’s just off the path. So that means we can follow the road, right? Just keep walking until we see walls.”

Another deep boom sounded nearby, followed by the slow, rumbling crash of a building falling in on itself. Talia hurried to the far wall and peered through one of the windows. Smoke choked everything, billowing down the alley in impenetrable clouds. She couldn’t even see the street cobbles.

“Do you think it’s still there?” Ava asked quietly.

Talia honestly didn’t know. “We have to try. We can’t just stay here. And if this is happening everywhere…”

She left the thought unfinished. Ava looked just as afraid. The idea of vampires doing this in more than one city was horrifying. Riften was bad enough but at least the vampires were eating some pretty awful people. But if they were everywhere? How many vampires – there wouldn’t be anywhere left to hide. It was like finding out that the little girl in her was right all along; she should be afraid of the dark.

Ava nodded, her lips strained to a thin, frightened line. “I know. And hey, if this is happening everywhere, I think you’re right. I know I made fun of you but we should probably be out there hiding instead of in a village. Maybe that would be safer.”

Talia had to laugh. “We wouldn’t last a week.”

“I’m being serious,” Ava said, coming protectively close to Talia. “I don’t want to go through all this just to lose you. I want you to be safe. That’s all.”

The woman could be so sweet at the worst times. That was part of what Talia loved about her. “We’re going to be fine, Ava. You’ll see.”

The shouting was coming closer. Ava peered through the window, grimacing as she stared at the same black smog Talia had found outside. She pulled away just as Talia scampered to the far wall. It was still clear on this side. There was fire and she could hear fighting from somewhere a few streets over but at least they could see. The smoke was thin enough that she could see almost to the next block before everything turned grey.

Ava sidled up behind her, resting one hand on her arm. “Hey.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Talia turned away from the window. She opened her mouth to protest but Ava cut her off.

“Don’t. Just listen. Whatever happened, I don’t blame you for it. Yeah, he took me to get to you, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. I wanted to be with you. I still do. If it meant them… doing what they did to me instead of you, then I’m okay. Really. I’m kind of glad, in a weird way. Not that it happened, but that I could stop them from hurting you. You’ve been through a lot. More than I have. And don’t argue with me because I know I’m right. I’ll bet you know it, too, don’t you?”

She wasn’t. Talia shook her head furiously. “Don’t say that.”

Ava smiled. “I mean it. It’s my fault, anyway. You still being here, I mean. You could have left whenever you wanted. You could have stolen anything you wanted – you proved that tonight. You could have just taken what you needed and run, lived outside the walls like you wanted. Why didn’t you?”

_Because I wanted you with me._ “That doesn’t make it your fault.”

“It sure didn’t help.”

“I stayed because I wanted to.” Talia tried to make herself taller as she said it. She always hated arguing with Ava, partly because the woman was so much taller than her. She could just look down her nose and smile and Talia would start feeling like an idiot. “I stayed because you were here and I would rather have lived in the Ratway with you than somewhere outside the walls, alone. None of this was your fault.”

Ava said nothing, just kept smiling. After a moment, she looked away from Talia and off toward the window. “The fighting’s getting louder.”

“Then we’ll leave,” Talia said firmly. “Together.”

A thin smile stretched over Ava’s lips. “Okay.”

Talia thought about staying and smacking some sense into her. The building did have an upstairs and no one had thought to disturb them so far. Maybe she could have convinced Ava that none of this was her fault. What she was saying was ridiculous. Valen had tortured her because of Talia. That was her fault. Ava was just saying that because she thought Talia was scared. And, if she was being honest, she kind of was. Her whole world had shattered tonight, first with Ava going missing, then the guards seeing her, then the vampires and their monsters, and finally with Valen trying to kidnap her. She was afraid.

But that didn’t mean she was going to forget about Ava.

Before she could convince herself not to, she took Ava by the shoulder, raised herself up on her toes, and kissed her – really kissed her. She didn’t do that often enough. She was always distracted or afraid or thought Ava wouldn’t like it. Talia’s face was a grimy mess and hers was always so pretty, so it felt like smearing dirt on fine art, but right now she didn’t care. She felt Ava’s little giggles through the breath on her lips, the deep thrum of them vibrating in her throat and in Talia’s they were so close.

“You make it so easy,” Ava murmured, her breath tickling Talia’s lips.

“What?”

“Living in the dark. You make it so much brighter. I don’t know if I ever told you that.”

_CRASH!_

Talia jumped back, stumbling over a crack in the floor and barely catching herself on the wall. Ava screamed as the smoke began boiling in through the hole in the far wall. Where one of the windows had been a moment before, there was nothing. Just a hole in the wall, and a figure surrounded by smoke and fire. His face was covered in blood, his shirt ripped and stained a dark red.

Valen stared right at Ava and howled. “YOU!”

Another crash came from beside Talia. She jumped again as someone grabbed her wrist. “Run!”

Ava gave the door another kick and tugged Talia through the opening and out into the night. Talia ran along behind her, the sound of Valen’s thundering footsteps right behind them.


	35. Ava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia tries to keep Ava safe from Valen long enough to reach the canal and the Ratway

Talia kept a tight hold on Ava’s wrist, tugging her through another hole in the wall and into the far alley. “Come on,” she hissed. “Come on. He can’t run forever.”

Ava was wheezing behind her but at least she was keeping up for now. “Aye, and that was before I put a knife in him. Bet he’s wishing he spent less time eating and more –“

The deafening clatter of masonry filled the alley as a pile of loose cobbles slid out under Ava’s feet. Talia cursed and stopped, pulling Ava to her feet and changing direction. Sometimes she forgot Ava hadn’t done this nearly as much as she had. Every thief had their own ways of getting out of trouble. Ava was awfully good at talking her way out of it. Talia was not so lucky. She usually ended up running for her life if anything ever went wrong.

Ava limped into the next alley, hobbling behind Talia until she could drag them both behind a pile of refuse. Talia cocked an ear as Ava hissed and cursed whatever slob had left his work half done.

So far they had avoided most of the fighting. They had stumbled into a battle between Dawnguard and vampires and nearly gotten killed by both, but they had managed to disappear before anyone really noticed them. The vampires seemed intent on killing the humans who were actually fighting back and the Dawnguard didn’t seem to care about a couple thieves so long as they stayed out of the way. She had not seen any guards yet. Maybe they would feel the same way.

That fight had been terrifying. Talia had never seen so many bodies before and she had lived in the Ratway. If a day went by without someone getting knifed in the back, she had not been looking hard enough. But this was different. Worse. Huge and violent and terrifying.

“Gods damned lazy cobbling bastard,” Ava whispered, peering back down the alley even as she massaged her ankle. “Hope they ate you first you lousy –“

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t know,” Ava said, putting weight on her ankle and wincing. “Don’t have much choice, though, do I?”

“Not really.” Talia listened for a moment longer before pulling Ava up.

She was listening for the same thing. “I don’t hear him.”

Valen was not a quiet man but neither was he stupid. That made Talia nervous. “Maybe the vampires got him.”

“Didn’t have much luck with that the first time.”

Talia grimaced. “Yeah. Probably too much to hope.”

If they couldn’t hear him, that might mean he had fallen behind. That gave them the advantage. They were thieves, after all, and they were awfully good at being quiet when they wanted to be. So long as their bad luck did not hold, anyway.

“How did he find us?” Ava whispered, getting to her feet and rolling her ankle around. What Talia would not have given for a little magic right now.

“I don’t know but I’m not about to ask him.” Talia peered down the alleyway, squinting to see through the distant smoke.

She crept toward the mouth of the alley, ears still twitching at every sound in the night. Ava followed behind, her normally silent steps replaced by a dull shuffle. Just turning her ankle shouldn’t have hurt her so badly. Valen and his thugs must have done something to her, hurt her leg somehow.

Not far from where they had stopped the alley branched off, running toward another road filled with orange smoke. Talia couldn’t see anything beyond the edge of the edge of the buildings. There could be anything out there.

Ava stopped just behind her. “Where are we?”

“Not far from the canal,” Talia whispered. “Just up this road. Two blocks, then the road ends and we go right. It’s a straight shot from there.”

That was assuming no one was waiting for them out there. “What about the alleys? Can we use them instead?”

“Yeah, we –“ Talia stopped. “Did you hear that?”

Ava nodded, pointing silently up the alley. Something was up there.

Okay, that settled it. Talia would prefer the road anyway. As much as she loved the dark, with so many people trying to kill her, she would feel more comfortable running somewhere familiar. This street was all but forgotten by the guards so they wouldn’t be out in force to protect it and, judging by all the fire, everyone who lived here was long gone. Most of the fighting was taking place near the main road to the east. It was their best chance. Besides, the longer they waited, the more time they gave Valen to catch up to them.

Talia shuffled into the alley, loping silently past the dark windows and shadowed doorways. She could hear Ava shuffling behind her, trying to keep up. There were a few bodies in the doorways. They looked like drunks sleeping off a long night but tonight she was not so sure. Firelight gleaming off little puddles in the dark made her run a little faster. The vampires had been through here.

They reached the street in silence, Talia poking her head out first, squinting against the smoke and ash billowing all around. Across the street, one of the buildings was burning furiously, the orange light of its flames tinting the air with the same blinding hue. Talia held up her arm to try and see further down the road.

Something rattled behind them.

Talia grabbed Ava’s arm and dragged her into the street. She had caught sight of the shadow. It looked like one of those dogs the vampires used. They had to move.

They had no sooner gotten into the street then they both lost their footing. The cobbles here were broken and bowed so badly that it was like trying to walk on top of stormy water. Ava was having a harder time but she kept up, passing Talia after she stumbled over an abandoned cart. The spokes caught her leg, digging into the flesh and making her grimace. Everyone must have left in a hurry.

More abandoned things caught her legs, tripping her and Ava both. Ava disappeared in the smoke for a moment as she fell flat on her face. Talia had to pull her up, casting one terrified glance back toward the alley before keeping on. A moment later she fell, the stone turning under her feet and sending her sprawling. She grappled for a handhold, cursing whoever had left all this garbage in the street.

Her hand touched flesh. She jumped, startled, terrified she had found another body. She squinted, trying to see if Ava had fallen or if it was another poor soul who lived here. It would just be a moment. She had to keep running.

It wasn’t Ava. The eyes stared back at her, unseeing and dead. It was another woman. Talia’s breath stopped. She could see the blood coming from the wounds in her neck, red streaks spilling into the street. She scrambled back, trying to find her footing, but something else caught her hand. Again she jumped, falling on her side as she tried to scramble away. In a moment of sheer terror, it all came crashing home. She saw the other body, felt another touching her back as she tried to get away. There was another beside her, another under the cart, more inside it.

They were walking on corpses. The entire street was full of them. Just body after body, piled here like garbage. Talia had thought they were garbage, loose stones. She had stepped on them like they were nothing. She felt sick.

“Ava –“

Ava screamed. “No!”

Something hit Talia in the head. Hard.

“There you are.”

Valen. Talia tried to stand but something hit her again, this time sending her sprawling. She saw stars.

“You really thought you could run? You thought you could do this to me and just walk away?”

She felt herself being pulled up from the ground by her cloak, her shirt clawing at her throat as she rose. Her fingers groped at the edge pitifully. Part of her was panicking, screaming for her to run and hide before he could kill her. The rest of her was numb, dazed from being struck.

“Leave her alone!”

Ava’s voice. Suddenly the ground came up to meet her. Something crunched painfully against her eye and cheek as she fell, turning her vision from white to bright red.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, bitch!” There was a loud, heavy thump. Ava screamed. Valen roared. “You! I should have killed you when we grabbed you off the street. All I needed was your friend, but you had to be tough. You did this to yourself, whore. You should have listened to me! We had a deal!”

Ava was screaming. There was another thud, this one more wet. Something in Talia screamed. She pushed herself up, stumbling over the bodies and searching frantically for Valen.

“But you. You. Had. To make. This. Difficult!”

She found him looming over something in the street, raising his fists and slamming them down. Every time he hit her, it sounded worse. It didn’t even sound like he was hitting a person anymore.

Talia saw red. She picked herself up and charged, throwing herself at Valen. She slammed into him like an arrow from a bow, biting and tearing and ripping at him with nothing but her hands. He threw her to the ground but this time she didn’t stop. She scrambled to her feet, crouching like a wild dog. Something gleamed beside her. A guard.

And his sword. She grabbed at the handle, picking it up in both hands and charging at him. She had never even used a sword.

But she had used a knife, and she knew which end was sharp. She felt it strike home, felt the steel bite into his gut, sinking deeper the harder she pushed. Talia howled.

Somehow he threw her off. Talia lost her grip on the sword, flying into the street. It didn’t matter. She would get up again and –

Something stabbed into her back. She screamed, her hand clawing at her burning side. It came away wet and sticky. Something in the street. A broken spear? Her side was bleeding. Her shirt was starting to stain. Shit. She had to get up. Just a little more.

Valen was laughing. “Ah, finally – ugh – found some fight in you. Good. Like it better when they struggle.”

He staggered toward her, looming, angry. With one great howl, he pulled the sword from his chest, holding it in one hand and staring at his own blood on the blade. He wasn’t even human. Talia felt herself sinking into the stone. She couldn’t fight someone like this. It was stupid to try. She should have just given up. Ava would still be alive. She would still be alive.

“Come here, girl.” Valen staggered toward her, sword in one hand. He was going to kill her. He was going to cut her up. There was nowhere to run, no shadows to hide in. Nowhere he wouldn’t find her. “I told you I would make you watch. I’m a man of my word, you know. When I’m done with you, there won’t be anything left. And then I’m going to kill Ava. If there’s anything left of her.”

“Ava.” Talia tried to crane her neck, tried to see where he had been beating Ava. She couldn’t see anything. Just more bodies.

“Go ahead. Scream for her. Just makes it more fun for me.” Valen leaned down, pushed the sword against her leg. “What do you want to lose first, girl? How about your feet? Or those fingers? How about them?”

Something black crashed into him. Valen howled, the sword falling from his hands. Talia tried to pull herself up but her side screamed with every breath.

“Talia! Run!”

It was Ava’s voice. She tried to stand, to see what had happened, where she had gone.

Valen rose from the ground again like a demon unwilling to leave the world. “You. You aren’t going anywhere. You should have just played along.”

Talia reached for the sword. She could take it. She could save Ava.

The sword scraped against the stone. Valen took it, glaring at Talia as she tried to grab the hilt. He brought his boot down on her fingers and twisted his heel. Talia screamed, feeling the bones crack.

“This is what happens, Ava! This is what happens when you cross me!”

She tried to stand. She had to do something.

The fingers on her mangled hand brushed steel. She rolled, snatching at it with her good hand. She wouldn’t give up. Not now. She grabbed whatever it was, pulling it toward her chest. Valen’s dagger. Ava must have dropped it.

Talia saw Ava’s hand raised in a pleading defense. She watched as Valen, looming over her, rammed the sword down. She heard the sound as it stuck in Ava’s chest.

She howled, inhuman and desperate, slamming into Valen’s back and swinging at him with his own dagger. Her side flared in agony as she struck him, her vision going white. More pain wracked her as she struck the ground, nothing more than a child’s toy tossed to the street. She couldn’t even fight back. She felt the tears begin to form as her anger spent itself. It was pointless. She looked up one last time, hopeless, furious, and afraid.

Valen wasn’t moving. Talia blinked the tears away, waiting for him to turn on her. As her vision cleared, and he still didn’t move, her hopes dared to rise. Silhouetted by the flames, she could see only the dark shadow of his massive form, and the hilt of his own dagger stuck to the back of his head.

A deep, otherworldly groan escaped his open mouth. He teetered on his heels, swaying and moving his arms as though he had forgotten how they worked. She saw the flames shining off his eyes as they stared hollowly back at her. It only lasted a moment before he fell backward into the street, just another body covered in smoke. He didn’t even crash to the ground like the great monster he was. He was simply gone.

Talia pulled herself up as far as she could, crawling her way toward where Ava had fallen. She felt the tears stinging her eyes. She could still see the sword sticking up above all the dust and the ash.

“Ava,” she croaked, pleading for an answer. “Ava. Come on. We have to go.”

No one answered. There was only smoke and embers and heavy, bitter silence.

“Ava.” Talia crawled over to her, her hands finding Ava’s. She pulled herself closer. “Please get up. Please.”

Ava squeezed her fingers. Talia heard her gasp.

“Ava!”

She pulled herself closer, close enough to see Ava struggling to move. She was coughing, struggling. “Talia –“

“Ava! I knew it. I knew you were alive. I –“

“Talia,” Ava croaked. Her voice was wrong. It didn’t sound like her. It sounded painful and coarse and – and the sword was still there. Talia could see it now. Valen had struck her through the chest. She could hear the sound of it again. It was in her ears, taunting her, drowning out the world.

“No.” Talia stared at the sword, pleading for it to leave, to go away and leave them in peace. She begged it not to be real. To let them live. “No. No, you can’t. Not after all this.”

“Listen,” Ava coughed, her hand still gripping Talia’s in a vice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do it.”

“What?” Talia tried to speak and keep herself from sobbing at the same time but all that came out was a pathetic, sniffling mess. “What are - why?”

“He made me do it. Valen. He wanted you. He told - oh gods - “

Ava grasped pitifully at the sword in her chest. Talia took her hand, slick with blood, and squeezed. “Don’t. Don’t talk. We’ll - we’ll find someone.”

“I lied to you.”

Talia shook her head. This was wrong. “You didn’t. You - I don’t understand.”

“He was going to sell me to them. The Stormcloaks. He said they’d kill me. Do things to me. I couldn’t. I was so scared. Gods, I’m so sorry. I lied to you. He never took me. I went to him. Just like I promised. I didn’t want to. I didn’t.”

“No. That isn’t... He hurt you. He – “ She closed her eyes and squeezed harder on Ava’s hand. It was the only thing that was real. If she shut her ears and closed her eyes, all of it would go away. It would all go back to normal.

“I couldn’t do it. I was supposed to go along with it until you were on the boat. Then he’d let me go. I couldn’t do it. I love you. I just – I was so scared.”

“It’s okay,” Talia whispered. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Someone will come. I promise.”

She didn’t mean it. This was just because of what happened. She was confused and hurt. Valen had hurt her. He had done this to them.

Ava’s laugh was a rattling, unliving thing. It sounded nothing like it should have, nothing like it had just this morning. “No. No one’s coming. I’m not… But you’re safe. That’s what matters. That’s all that matters.”

“Don’t say that. I can’t do this. Not without you.”

Ava shuddered, her grip growing feeble. It just made Talia hold on even tighter. “You can. You can. You’re meant for more than this, Tal. You’re different. Special. You deserve so much more than this. You’re kind and smart and brave and more than anything I could ever be. You just have to be brave. That’s all.”

Talia sniffed, looking around for an answer, for someone to tell her this was all a joke. “Why? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want to lie to you. I want you to remember me. I don’t care how. Hate me. I deserve it. But I want you to know who I was. And I want you to know that I loved you. I did.”

Her grip began to come loose, her hand falling away. Talia squeezed tighter. “I know. I love you, too.”

Ava tried to laugh. She smiled. One last smile. “Just be brave. Okay? Promise me you’ll be brave. Not like me.”

“I promise.” Talia squeezed tighter. “I promise. But you have to stay with me. Okay? You can’t go. You can’t leave.”

But she could. She had to. Her eyes began to cloud over, fixing on something far away. She looked so afraid. So small.

Talia leaned closer, gripping her hand tighter. “No. Please. I can’t. I can’t do it. Not without you. You can’t go. Please don’t go. Ava. Ava, please.”

Ava didn’t move. Her chest had stopped rising and falling with her breaths. Talia felt herself begin to sob.

She didn’t have the strength to fight them. Once she began to cry, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop, but she didn’t care. She let herself cry. Nothing mattered anymore. Not Valen, not Riften, not her own life. Nothing. It was all gone.


	36. In Safe Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia finds she is not alone as she grieves for Ava

“You have to get up. Please. You can’t be dead.”

Talia had begged and pleaded with every god there was. None of them had answered. Ava had not opened her eyes. She was lying there, pretending to be dead. That was how it had to be. She was pretending. Because she couldn’t really be dead. She couldn't.

“You can’t leave. You can’t tell me everything we had was a lie and just…” Talia sniffed and rocked forward. “It wasn’t. I loved you. And I know you. I know you cared. You wouldn’t have saved me if you didn’t.”

The street was silent. There was no one around to hear her, no one that could help her. She would have done anything, walked into the Temple of Mara or the palace itself to plead for help. She would have admitted to everything, let herself be strung up for her crimes, just so long as Ava could live. Ava deserved to survive this. Not Talia.

“Please. Wake up. Ava. You have to wake up. We have to go. The guards will be here. Or the soldiers or… I don’t want them to find you. They’ll hurt - we just - we have to go.”

“Such a shame.”

The voice was smooth as silk, as melancholy as a funeral dirge and as flowing as mist on the water. Talia turned, horrified but unable to let go of Ava’s hand. It was too late. Someone had found them.

A man in black robes stood over her, smiling kindly. Under his cloak were fine clothes the colors of smoke and deep, ruby red. She almost didn’t notice his fangs.

“What?” she asked, stammering so badly she didn’t recognize her own voice, choked as it was from crying.

“I am sorry. I know I am intruding. I only saw you grieving and I thought I may be able to lend a hand.”

She felt her entire body trembling, wracked first by sobs and now by fear. “How?”

“I am, shall we say, a very old man. I know, I don’t look it, do I? But there are days when I feel it. As I do now. I have seen many things in my life, and what I see now, I have known too many times. The loss of a dear friend.” He tilted his head slowly, his eyes turning sympathetic. “Oh. Oh, dear. More than a friend, I see. You have my deepest sympathies.”

Talia was paralyzed. Ava’s hand still clutched in hers, she tried to turn away. “Please. I –”

“I understand. And I will leave you to your grief for as long as you desire. I promise. But, you see, tonight is a very dangerous night. If you are going to stay here, and if you are anything like me, you will never want to leave her side, you will need someone to keep you safe.” She could almost hear his smile widen behind her. “I can do that for you.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice was shaking worse now. She just wanted to be left alone. She didn’t care about anything else.

“My friends are out there right now. Soon, everything will be quiet again, and you will have all the time in the world to grieve. To stay with the girl you cared for so deeply. Ava.”

She almost missed it, nodding along with him. He said her name. How long had he been watching her? “How –how did you know her name?”

She turned to see him still smiling pleasantly. It almost looked comforting. “It’s a gift I have. One I can give to you. You see, I know many things, being as old as I am, and right now, I am very interested in getting to know you. You are someone very special. I can tell that just by looking at you.”

“I – I don’t –“

“I know, I know. It’s all a bit strange to hear the first time. I don’t blame you for being a little scared. But that’s why I am here. I don’t want you to be afraid. I want to help you. I see you weeping over the body of a woman you could not protect. I know that pain.”

Talia clung tighter to Ava’s hand, crouching protectively over her body. “Leave us alone. Please.”

“It was no failing of yours, dear child, I can promise you that. I could tell you a thousand stories from a hundred thousand souls, each one just like yours. We have all known that pain, my dear Talia.” He smiled, putting up his hands in a disarming gesture. “May I call you that? I do not want to be too forward but it is such a lovely name.”

He knew her name. Helplessness began to wash over her. Ava was gone. There was a vampire standing over her, talking to her, reading her mind. This was the end. There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t fight him any more than she could fight Valen. She couldn’t even work up the strength to die on her feet. It didn’t matter anyway. Better to die here than to keep going. She couldn’t be brave. She was never brave. Not like Ava.

“What do you want from me?”

The vampire put on a consoling face, his words turning even softer. “I have made a poor impression, haven’t I? Would that I could start over. Perhaps I can make amends. I know there is nothing I can do about my, ah, appearance. You fear vampires, and rightly so, but not all of us are feral. Mindless. Some of us are more… refined. I have no desire to kill you, dear Talia. I promise, nothing could be further from my mind. If there is anything I can do to set your mind at ease in that regard, I would gladly do it.”

Talia could not even make sense of his words. A vampire that didn’t want to kill her? Wasn’t that all they did? And why did it even matter? Ava was still dead. She was still a coward.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in, and even that is only the beginning.” He chuckled, his voice pleasantly deep. A bit like the sound of waves echoing down the tunnels of the Ratway. Where Talia hid. Where she was safe. “There is so much more I can show you, my girl. I said you were special. You are. More than just because of who you are. You have survived much. I can see the scars even if you cannot. That is why I do not want you to know fear because I see that you have known it – really, truly known it. The people of this city; they are afraid tonight. But you have known far worse, haven’t you? You have been truly afraid.”

He turned, regarding the corpse of Valen just a few feet away. His strides were long, silent, and terrifying on an animal level.

“And you have been brave,” he said, still looking down at Valen’s body. “You did this, didn’t you? I can see how afraid of him you were. It lingers in your mind, on your clothes. On the knife you used to kill him. You tried to save her, didn’t you? That was brave of you.”

With one, slow swoop of his cloak, he was facing her again, just an arm’s length away. Talia felt herself trembling as he stared down at her.

“I offer you a gift, my girl. I can make it so no one will ever make you that afraid again. I can give you the power to save everyone you care about.” His voice turned almost pleading. “If you could only see what I do, you would understand. We could do such great things together. The gates of the castle would swing wide for you and the throne, even for someone like you, without the blood, would not be beyond your reach. You could do so much. You could change everything. I beg of you. Just let me help you.”

“Please,” Talia heard the panic creeping into her voice. “Don’t. Just leave me be.”

The vampire sighed, his back heaving dramatically. When his eyes met Talia’s again, there was sadness in them.

“Alas, I cannot. I apologize for what I must do. I wanted you to be willing. But once you understand, you will thank me.” He began reaching toward her. Talia found herself suddenly paralyzed, unable to move. “Just relax. I will make this as painless as I can for you. When we are done, you can take all the time you need. I will be there to help you every step of the way.”

His hands grasped her side, pulling her closer. She felt him tilt her head to the side, brushing the hair away from her exposed neck. She barely found the strength even to speak.

“Please,” she whispered. “Help me.”

Zzzip!

The vampire jerked, falling to the side in a heap and nearly pulling Talia down with him. A flood of panic rushed over her as he fell, her limbs twitching as they remembered how to move. She was free. She could think again.

Someone rushed by her and for a moment Talia was afraid they were going to grab her and drag her away. But they ignored her, rushing toward a nearby alley. She saw the strange weapon in their hands and knew immediately who they were. The Dawnguard had found her.

“Are you alright?” a woman asked.

Talia turned, mute and for a moment completely dumbfounded at seeing another person. Red hair framed a thin face with freckles beneath her blue eyes and along her forehead. She looked young. Maybe she was Talia’s age. Or Ava’s. She was a bit older than Talia.

The woman cursed and Talia jumped. “You’re bleeding. Someone get a medic! Hey, you’re going to be alright, okay? He didn’t bite you, did he? Did he do this to you?”

Talia stammered, her lips moving but the only sound that came out was a long “uh…”

“It’s alright. You’re going to be just fine. We’re going to get someone up here to take care of you and you’ll be right as rain. I promise.” The woman pushed some of that red hair from her forehead with her hand. “By the Eight. How’d you end up in a place like this?”

“Running,” Talia finally managed in a hoarse whisper. “Had to get away.”

“You outran a vampire? You’ve got some fast feet.”

Talia shook her head, her eyes falling to Valen’s corpse.

The woman growled. “Oh. Of course. City goes to hell and suddenly it’s open season. Did he do this to you?”

Talia nodded. What was she talking about? Did what to her?

“Looks like you got him back. Good for you.”

“Wasn’t me.” The woman looked back to her. Talia reached down to touch Ava’s hand again.

It was all she could say. The woman was silent for a moment, a long breath escaping her lips. “I’m sorry. I wish we’d gotten here sooner. But we’re here now. We’ll make sure nobody does the same to you, alright?”

Someone skidded up beside her, tripping over the bodies and nearly falling on top of the strange woman. Talia looked blankly at him, trying to understand why there were so many people crowding around her. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?

“She’s got a bad cut on her back and it looks like someone took a swing at her head with something nasty. Can you fix her up?”

The man reached toward her, grasping Talia’s head in his hands. Suddenly it was Valen grabbing her. “No!”

She started kicking, thrashing and clawing at the startled soldier. The woman pulled him back but stayed close to Talia. “Wait! It’s alright! It’s okay. I promise. No one’s gonna hurt you. We just need to take a look at that cut.”

“She doesn’t want help, Captain. I say just leave her. She’s obviously lost it anyway.”

Talia crouched over Ava’s body, her fingers still clutching fervently at her lifeless hand. She was really gone. And there was nothing she could do about it. “Please. Just leave me alone.”

The woman shoved the man away, growling at him as she did. “Don’t go anywhere. We’re here to save everyone we can and I say we’re saving her. Got it?”

The man turned away with a scoff but did not leave, just wandered a few paces away and crossed his arms. The red-haired woman turned back to Talia. Her eyes looked tired as she knelt down a few paces away.

“I know you, don’t I?” she asked quietly. Talia tensed, ready to spring. “You got jumped by the canal. One of those hounds had you.”

Talia hesitated. She remembered that. Someone had shot the dog before it could kill her. “You?” she croaked.

The woman smiled. “Yeah. You’ve had a long night, haven’t you? I’m sorry about earlier. I should have gotten to you quicker. If I had, maybe I could have helped your friend. I promise, though, I’m here to help you. I just want to get you somewhere safe. Can I do that?”

She blinked, not understanding the words. “You want to help me?”

“That’s right. You’re hurt. My friend here can heal you.”

The man made a sound and the woman shot him a look but it wasn’t like before. The vampire hadn’t wanted to help her. This woman had saved her. And listening to her talk, she sounded like she meant it. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why?”

The woman blinked. “What?”

“Why save me?”

“He was going to kill you,” she said carefully, as though not understanding Talia’s question. “Just like that cut is going to kill you. I know you’re scared but you can trust me. I promise.”

Talia began to feel woozy. She could trust her. Couldn’t she? She wanted to. She was so tired. She was tired and lost and she didn’t know what to do anymore. She just wanted to wake up. This was all some horrible dream and she wanted it to stop.

“I… okay…” Talia murmured. The world began to blur.

The woman shouted something and the earth rushed up to meet her.

 

Alicia knelt over the girl’s body, forcing herself not to physically shake the good doctor as he worked. The man could be absolutely infuriating but once he was actually doing his job, there were few better at bringing people back to life.

“Girl’s been standing in the way of someone’s fists all night,” Medic Thorvald said, his hands cupped around the poor girl’s head. “Doesn’t help that she got herself cut up. Blood loss and a lot of knocks to the skull. Someone needs to be more careful.”

If he hadn’t been holding the girl’s life in his hands, Alicia would have considered socking him on the jaw. “Can you keep her alive or not?”

“She’s breathing, isn’t she? You’re welcome for that. Don’t know why you care so damned much.”

If there ever was a shred of empathy in Thorvald’s body, it had long since withered away. “Just look at her. She had it bad before the vampires and now… shit, just look.”

“I am looking, Captain, and I’m not seeing a sword. I’m seeing a hungry mouth and ragged clothes. I’m seeing -”

“Enough,” Alicia growled. “She can have my rations and my cloak if that will keep you happy. Just keep her on this side of Sovngarde.”

She was not sure why she cared so much, either, but she found herself unable to walk away. This poor girl was everything she had seen in Riften, everything she wanted to fix. She was scrawny, hungry, cold, and afraid. This was what they were here to protect.

And she had saved the girl’s life twice, now. She refused to let her die here.

“There you are,” Thorvald said, standing and turning away with waiting for a dismissal. “Hope it was worth the trouble. I’m heading back. Send a runner if you need another urchin saved. I’ll be sure to come running.”

The girl blinked groggily, moaning quietly as the spells did their work. Poor thing. She was a mess. Even under all the blood and scrapes and black eyes, she was barely holding together. More than anything she needed a hot meal and a long bath. Alicia thumbed at one of the holes in her cloak. She might actually need to give her something to keep her warm, too, and if it was from her own personal supplies than so be it.

She grimaced, casting a black look over her shoulder at where Thorvald had disappeared. She didn’t need a reason to save this one girl besides that she needed saving. That was all.

Alicia held the girl’s head in her lap, unwilling to leave her lying in the street on top of all the corpses. Hopefully she didn’t panic when she woke up in a stranger’s lap. Not that she would blame her if she did, it would just be another battle trying to talk her back down and get her go somewhere safe.

Right now, safety would be hard to find in Riften. Alicia spared a thought for the job she was supposed to be doing right now which was safeguarding all of Riften’s people, not just this one girl. She had come out here looking for stragglers. She shouldn’t linger, even on behalf of this one. There were others she needed to be saving, defenses that needed shoring up, men and women that needed to see their leadership in action.

The girl stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “What…”

“You’re safe,” Alicia said quietly. “You passed out while we were talking so I had my friend heal you. I hope that’s alright.”

The girl looked so confused when she said things like that. She had looked just as baffled when Alicia had talked about saving her from the vampire. What had life been like for this poor girl?

Alicia let her sit up, rolling to her knees and into the street. It wasn’t easy, letting the girl out of her grasp, but she needed her space. She needed to see that no one here was trying to take her away.

The girl looked furtively at the other Dawnguard soldiers spread out in the street. Most of them looked horrified, their eyes pointedly avoiding the pile of bodies they were stepping over to do their work. Others watched Alicia and the girl with blank expressions. Alicia could not read their faces and some of them she had known since she had enlisted. It was a hard night on all of them, and the night before had been worse.

Alicia watched as the girl tried to shrink down, folding her arms and stooping under the weight of their stares. Her eyes flicked to the alleys, lingering on the shadows furthest from the soldiers. But, for every moment they spent watching that darkness, they came back to look at the other girl, the one with the sword in her chest.

“May I?” The girl jumped. Alicia gestured carefully to the dead girl. “I’m not a priest, but I know some rites. And I can tell she meant a lot to you. I won’t do it unless you ask me to. I just… I know what it’s like. Losing people.”

There was a long silence as the girl stared at Alicia, trying to peer through her eyes and find whatever horrible intentions lingered in her mind. Alicia didn’t move. She just waited. She wanted so badly to help this girl but she had no idea how to do it. What could she say that would make her less afraid? What could she do to convince her she wasn’t going to hurt her?

The girl nodded.

Alicia smiled at her. “Okay. I swear, I’ll be respectful.”

Careful not to disturb her, Alicia knelt over the dead woman, looking down at the last expression she would ever wear. She looked afraid. She looked hurt. She looked like so many dead that Alicia had seen in the last few days. With two fingers, she closed the woman’s eyes and, almost without realizing she was doing it, brushed some of the dirt from her cheeks.

The only prayer she knew was a pitiful invocation to Arkay but she said it anyway. It was something she remembered from a funeral for one of her family, an uncle or something. She was very young, but the words had stuck.

When she was finished, she stood, taking one step back and bowing slightly to the body. “Talos guide you.”

The words startled her as much as they did anyone within earshot but they were out before she could stop them. Rather than showing the girl her surprise, she just turned to her and pretended that was entirely normal.

“What was her name?”

The girl’s lips twitched. “Ava. Her name was Ava.”

“Ava. I hope she finds what she seeks in the next life. Sovngarde awaits all brave souls, and if she saved your life from that monster, she will have a place of her own at the highest table.”

The girl’s lips tightened and Alicia could see the tears trying to form in her eyes. “I know.”

Alicia looked back toward her soldiers up the street. One of them gave her a sign she recognized. Trouble coming.

“Are you okay to walk?” Alicia asked quietly. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

The girl looked around at the soldiers. Again she started to shrink away. “Where?”

“Just the market. We need to get you to where the soldiers can protect you.”

Those Dawnguard listening in began moving closer, clearing the way out of the street. Every time they moved, the poor girl moved a little closer to Alicia until she was almost standing in her shadow. Well, at least that was something. The girl looked up, suddenly startled that she had moved so close to Alicia.

Alicia smiled. “It’s alright. We’re here to save you, remember?”

The girl stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Alicia motioned for her soldiers to get moving. From the way they took off running, they were all too eager to leave this street and its carnage far behind.

“Who are you?”

Alicia thought about answering with a joke or with some propagandist slogan that Isran would have approved of but that wasn’t who she felt like being right now. She didn’t want to be just the Captain. Not to this girl.

“I’m Alicia. And you are?”

“Talia.”

The Dawnguard soldiers led the way, loping up the street and watching the alleys as they made their way back to the canal. Alicia looked down at the poor girl still hiding in her shadow, the tangle of black hair barely hiding her eyes as they flicked nervously from soldier to soldier, shadow to shadow.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Talia,” Alicia said, warmly and without the slightest hint of irony. “Let’s get you somewhere safe, okay? Don’t worry. We’ll look after you. I promise.”


	37. Be Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia leaves Talia in the safety of the market district, but Talia isn't ready to leave

“You’ll be safe here.”

Talia looked furtively at the guards ringing the market. They had turned the place into a fortress, with barricades and patrols and torches everywhere. There was nowhere to hide, no shadows left for her to curl up in. They would see her for sure.

Alicia gave her a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “I promise, no one’s going to hurt you.”

As much as she trusted Alicia, and she was not even sure why she did, that trust did not include her friends and it certainly did not include the guards. She had known them all her life. They had no interest in protecting a thief. She would be lucky if they even let her over the bridge in the first place. If Alicia just knew why she wanted to stay here, she would understand.

But Alicia didn’t know. She didn’t know who anything about the girl she had saved and Talia was terrified to change that. If she found out she had risked her life for a thief, she would be angry. “What about you?”

Alicia smiled. “City’s still full of vampires, isn’t it?”

“You’re going back out there?”

Talia could hardly believe it but Alicia just chuckled. “I know, it’s not the brightest idea, is it? But my friends are out there. They’re not going to leave until all of you are safe, so that means I’m not going to be leaving, either.”

Just thinking about going back into the dark, into more streets filled with bodies, was enough to make Talia shiver. Her stomach turned and she started to feel sick. It was all there, just on the edge of her mind. That vampire looming over her. The way the bodies just looked wrong, the way they felt when she had stepped on them. Valen rising from the smoke over and over. Ava trying to say goodbye.

Alicia gave her another gentle push. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Talia looked up, terrified of being left along with the guards. She wanted to tell her everything right here, make her understand that this place wasn’t safe, but it wouldn’t come out. All she managed to say was “I’m not who you think. They won’t help me.”

Alicia looked puzzled but something caught her attention before she could answer. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes settling on a man approaching through the crowd. The smallest groan escaped her. “Whatever you were before tonight doesn’t matter, and if anyone here can’t see that, I’ll be happy to set them straight for you. Okay? I’ll come back soon and check on you, I promise.”

Talia appreciated that more than she could say, but it still wouldn’t be enough. She gave the guards a wary look. What would they say when they recognized her? Probably nothing. Maybe die, thief! That was what they usually said.

But Alicia was telling her to go, so she would go. She turned away from the market and back toward the woman that had saved her. “Thank you.”

“What for?” she asked, cocking her head just slightly.

“For…” Talia struggled, shrugging her shoulders and feeling incredibly small and pathetic. “For everything. The vampire and… Ava…”

Alicia gave her another kind smile. “Just doing my job. Go on. I’ll see you soon.”

Talia began walking toward the guards but had no intention of ever reaching them. It was just what Alicia wanted her to do, so she would play along. She didn’t want her to worry. As she made her way passed the first few stalls, she made herself Quiet. None of the guards would see her. Alicia would have just lost her in the crowd. It was exhausting, trying to stay Quiet after everything that had happened, but she only needed it for a moment.

She couldn’t stay here. The guards would find her and she had no doubt what would happen when they did. Even if she stayed hidden from them, Valen had a lot of friends in the underworld. Some of them would be here. And then there were the vampires. No, she wasn’t safe at all. There was only one place in Riften she had ever been truly safe: the Ratway. It was the only place she could hide where no one else would ever find her. That’s where she would go, where she had to go.

But not just yet. She waited until she no longer felt Alicia’s gaze on her then turned around and darted behind one of the piles of boxes sitting near the bridge. There were sacks of potatoes and bundles of arrows heaped nearby but no one was around to use them. Hopefully that meant they were just stacking things here and wouldn’t be by to check on it. She wriggled between two of the larger piles just in case anyone was watching and cocked an ear to the bridge.

“Captain,” an old, grizzled voice drifted from where Alicia was standing. “You’re looking well this evening.”

“Good to see you, old man.” Alicia’s voice answered. It sounded genuinely relieved. “I see you managed to round up our stragglers.”

“Wasn’t easy. Like herding Skeevers with your hands,” the man chuckled. “But they didn’t bite too hard. Just needed a good kick.”

Talia crept to the edge of the canal and peered through the intricate stone railing that lined the side. She could make out Alicia’s red hair in the light of a nearby torch. She was facing the other way, talking to a man with a lot of scars and the same Dawnguard armor they were all wearing. He looked like men Talia had seen before, the kind that acted sweet until you let your guard down. Like so many others, they liked hurting people that couldn’t fight back.

But Alicia was laughing with him. Did that mean he was okay, too? “That’s what I keep you around for. What about our fearless leader?”

The man grimaced and looked like he wanted to spit. “Haven’t had the pleasure. You’re the last person who’s seen him alive, as far as I’ve heard. Maybe he fell into the canal.”

“We should be so lucky,” Alicia muttered.

“Most of us are just thankful for the change in command, if you catch my meaning, ma’am.”

Talia couldn’t see Alicia’s face but from the way she started fiddling with her armor, she wasn’t happy. “I’m glad someone is,” she muttered.

“You’re doing fine, kid,” the old man said. “Got us this far, didn’t you? Give yourself a little credit. And hey, you’ve got me here to help. I wouldn’t lead you down the wrong path, now would I?”

Alicia tilted her head slightly. “Thanks, old man. Okay. Better act like I’m in charge, then. Talk to me about the city.”

“Most of the fighting is by the estates.” The man nodded toward the larger, richer buildings closer to the palace. “Vampires might be making a push for the Jarl again. We’ve got people inside the walls in case they sneak in again. I’ve tried to keep our guys out of that fight as much as possible but the guards are starting to hurt. I don’t know how long they can keep it up.”

Alicia was nodding. “Anyone else helping? Riften is for Ulfric, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but there’s no Stormcloak presence inside the walls. Jarl didn’t want to get too mixed up, I guess.”

“Too bad for her.”

“And for us, if we end up picking up the slack.” The man pointed toward the main gate. “Everything along the main road is gone. Nothing there but burning shops and dead vampires.”

“I’ve already seen the slums,” Alicia said, nodding toward the burning buildings. “No one’s left over there and if they are, I don’t envy them. It’s a mess. Vampires were herding people, dumping their bodies in the streets. It’s a nightmare.”

“Mmm. Heard you managed to save someone. A girl, wasn’t it?”

Talia wished she could see Alicia’s face. She hadn’t caused her trouble, had she? “Yeah. Found her in one of the mass graves with her dead girlfriend and a vampire trying to get handsy. Poor thing’s had a rough time tonight.”

The man whistled. “I’ll say. Good on you for saving her.”

“Yeah. Little victories, right? Told her I’d come back to check on her soon.”

“A personal visit from the Captain of the Dawnguard? What a lucky girl.”

Alicia growled. “You’re a damned riot, you know that?”

The man chuckled, the sound of it rumbling so heavily it could have come from a bear. “I do my best. If I may?”

“You’re going to anyway.”

“I’d suggest pulling back. Whatever orders Isran gave you, and I’m sure they were delightful, we don’t have the people to pull them off. We’ve got a lot of scared citizens with nothing between them and a vampire’s stomach except that canal. We need to hold these bridges or we’re going to lose the lot of them.”

Alicia was nodding. “I agree. I’ve already got people stockpiling food, bolts, and whatever medicinal herbs we can find. Thorvald put a triage station together closer to the palace and is working on some forward stations near the bridges. Hopefully we won’t need those, but…”

“But we will,” the man finished. “Good thinking, ma’am.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“There’s a sorceress in the palace. She’s trying to hold the estates together all on her own and from what I hear she’s doing a hell of a job. Guards say she’s the only reason any of them are still standing.”

Alicia made a noise of approval. “Someone from the College?”

“She didn’t say. Just popped out of thin air and started killing vampires. I don’t think anyone’s been in the mood to ask questions.”

“Fair enough.”

Alicia turned to face the slums. Talia scrunched down closer to the ground. She didn’t want Alicia to catch her spying. Not because she was afraid of her, she just didn’t want to be told to go with the others. Alicia had saved her. Actually, she had saved her twice. She had saved Talia, a thief, a stranger. Why?

“I’m going to go check on the western bridge,” Alicia said, turning back to face the old man. “If I were making a push for the market, that’s where I’d go. It’s quiet over there and everyone will be watching the estates for trouble.”

“I agree. Unless you have other orders, I’d like to make my rounds near the palace.”

“Of course. Wait, you’ve got a thing for this sorceress, don’t you?”

The man barked a laugh. “You should respect your elders, young lady.”

“I’ve never been more disappointed in them, you desperate old bastard. Fine, go chase skirt while I do all the hard work.”

“Good hunting, captain.”

“Yeah, yeah, same to you.”

The man snapped a salute and Alicia returned it, although hers was almost lazy. These Dawnguard were a strange bunch. Talia watched as Alicia crossed the bridge, passing Talia’s hiding place without seeing her and moving off toward the slums. She really was going back.

She paused as she passed Talia’s hiding place, staring at the crowd of people ringed by soldiers. Talia thought she heard her muttering something under her breath. “Where are you?”

Talia didn’t move. She wanted to get her attention, tell her not to worry, but Alicia would just tell her to go back. She didn’t understand what kind of people the guards here were, what they did to people like Talia. It wasn’t her fault for not knowing, it was just how things were in Riften.

Talia waited until she was out of sight, then darted into the shadows. She knew she should stay here or jump down to the Ratway where it was safe, but she couldn’t help herself. Alicia had saved her. And now she was going to go back to the fighting. None of that made any sense. She should have been out for herself. Her Dawnguard, even if she did care about them, could just walk out the city gates and no one could stop them. So why didn’t they?

The shops in the market square were dark, making it even easier for Talia to scuttle through the alleys unseen. There were a thousand cracks between buildings and a thousand more rooftops for her to use as shelter from prying eyes. She didn’t want to be seen sneaking around. She still didn’t trust the guards to do anything but kill her on sight. And she didn’t want Alicia getting in trouble because she didn’t do as she was told.

It wasn’t far to the bridge. Alicia made it there, picking up Dawnguard soldiers along and shepherding all of them to the bridge and speaking quickly to any guards she passed. They all seemed to listen to her.

Talia, as beaten as she was, found the energy to make herself Quiet as she snuck passed a pair of guards and onto the porch of a nearby shop. She was right beside the bridge and, from where she was lying, she could peer through the wooden railing and see both sides of the bridge. There were a lot of Dawnguard soldiers bunched up on this side, stacking boxes and cradling those strange weapons. On the other side, nothing. Just tongues of flame licking at the windows and a vast, unending plume of smoke that blotted out the stars.

She wasn’t sure what she was watching for as Alicia went between her soldiers, greeting some with nods and others with a familiar handshake or clap on the shoulder. Part of her just wanted to watch. Alicia was so… well, different.

As she lay there, watching Alicia move among her soldiers, she asked herself that question over and over. The answers always came up a little weak. She thought about the words she spoken for Ava. That meant a lot to her. Thieves never got a burial, much less a benediction like that. But why did she even care? Ava had lied to her. She had used her. She was going to let Valen sell her to the Stormcloaks.

Even thinking about it now, she couldn’t be angry, at least not for long. It always faded to the same, grey numbness that had taken over her body. She felt like lying here forever, letting the ground press up against her. She missed Ava. No matter what she’d said, Talia still missed her. She couldn’t believe it was all a lie. Everything they’d done together, all the secrets they’d shared, the time they’d spent out by the water watching the stars, all that had to be real. And if it wasn’t real for Ava, it had been real for her.

Maybe that was why she was here. She didn’t have anything left. All she had was this stranger.

Alicia was speaking to someone near the edge of the bridge, gesturing toward the slums with one hand. Nearby were a few soldiers behind their boxes, watching the far side of the canal for any sign of vampires. A few were still moving boxes and - were they playing cards? Talia blinked, surprise breaking through the sea of nothingness like a great whale coming up to surface. They really were playing cards. The city was burning, there could be vampires anywhere, and they sat and played cards.

That made up Talia’s mind. These Dawnguard were a very strange bunch.

She looked back to find Alicia speaking more quietly to the soldier near the bridge. The soldier was nodding along when she reached up and took off her helmet, a cascade of blonde hair instantly falling passed her shoulders. Alicia laughed as the woman scrubbed at it, running her fingers through it and trying in vain to keep it all falling down her back.

Talia found herself smiling, too. Strange as they were, they were alive. They could have even been a family.

One of them shouted and, in an instant, all the laughter vanished. Alicia hefted her crossbow and was the first person to reach the bridge, the rest of the Dawnguard hurrying to catch up. The street soon became a mess of shouting.

“Where are they?”

“Spare bolts are in the bags! Don’t waste your shots!”

“There! In the street!”

“Don’t step on my cards, you cheat!”

Then it was all lost in a roar. Dozens, maybe hundreds of voices drowned out everything and struck fear in Talia’s heart. It sounded like the world was coming to an end.

Black shapes by the score flooded the far side of the canal. They did not even look human. In the chaotic light of the flames, they looked like monsters. They were monsters. Talia could hear it in their screams. There was nothing human about them anymore.

The sound of the Dawnguard’s weapons soon answered, the snapping, zipping sounds Talia had heard too much of tonight were nearly drowned out by the shouting of the horde. Alicia was shouting something, her voice impossibly calm, but Talia could not hear the words. She just stared at the mob of shouting, bloodthirsty monsters and wondered why she was not running.

But even as she watched, the horde began to flail. Like some great beast, it started to flinch back, struck by a thousand arrows. Shapes fell to the ground. Other shapes tripped over them, rising only to be struck down the same as the first. The closer they drew to the bridge, the more it seemed like they would never make it. A few made it onto the span but fell so quickly that Talia felt like cheering. It was amazing. No matter how many came at the bridge, none of them ever made it closer than the far edge.

Talia watched as the Dawnguard kept firing into the mess. She wished she would have trusted them sooner. They could have helped her. Valen wouldn’t have been able to stop them. Ava would still be alive. But it was too late. She had been too afraid. That made it her fault.

She didn’t even see where the fireball came from. It was just there, hanging in the middle of the street for a split second before engulfing everything in flame.

The blast was so hot Talia could feel it from where she was hiding. Splinters of wood and entire boxes went flying into the air, splashing down in the canal or smashing against the street when they fell. Talia covered her face against the wind, listening in terror as the shop behind her groaned at the sudden insult. For a moment, it sounded like the whole thing would be coming down on top of her.

She opened her eyes to find the Dawnguard sprawled all over the street. None of them were moving. Why weren’t they moving? Where was Alicia? She had been right in the middle of that. She had to be okay.

Talia spotted her lying on the bridge, face down, her strange weapon lying beside her. She wasn’t moving either.

The mob on the other side of the street was still there. It howled and raged and rushed the bridge as fast as it could. Talia heard the snap of the Dawnguard weapons and saw more of them coming from up the street. Some picked themselves off the ground and went right back to fighting.

She looked from one side of the bridge to the other, from Dawnguard to the mob and finally to Alicia. It wasn’t enough. There were too many of them.

They were already on the bridge. Alicia still wasn’t moving. She was going to die.

_Be brave._

She was on her feet before she knew what was happening, vaulting over the railing and sprinting into the street. The Dawnguard shouted but she didn’t stop. None of them were helping Alicia. No one was.

Talia reached her side before the monsters did. She shook her and shouted at her but she only groaned. She wasn’t getting up. She had to get up. She was going to die here.

The mob was on the bridge. The Dawnguard were fighting them but they were still coming. She could see their shapes coming over the rise, hungry, howling, unstoppable.

All Talia had was her little dagger. She pulled it from the straps on her leg, blunt and pathetic and everything she had left in the world. This was all she could do. She had to try. She had to be brave.

There she stayed, standing over Alicia, facing the far side of the bridge like she could possibly do anything to stop it. It was insane and every part of her screamed at her to run. There was nothing she could do. This wasn’t where she belonged or what she should be doing. But she had to try. She had to.

She saw him coming over the bridge like a charging horse. A huge, barrel-chested man with a butcher’s knife, his arms as big as Talia was wide. He had it raised over his head like he was getting ready to cut another slab of meat. That was all Talia was. He was going to cut her in half and not even stop, just push her aside and kill Alicia.

The man swung, his knife coming down at Talia’s head.

Talia was faster. She lunged, driving her little knife into his chest.

He roared but he didn’t stop, the sheer weight of him slamming into Talia and sending her flying. She hit the ground with a yelp, her arm twisting and her shoulder screaming as it crunched against something solid. She looked up, terrified that she would see the man standing over her, swinging that vicious knife of his.

She found him lying on the bridge, the hilt of her dagger stuck in his heart. It looked impossible. But there it was.

More howling came from the far side of the bridge. Talia forced herself to get up, scrambling on all fours to get to Alicia’s side. She shook her again and this time she started to rise, one hand coming to rub at her battered head. She was alive. Thank the Gods, she was still alive.

There was more snapping and shouting from the Dawnguard. More of them came up to this side of the bridge, driving the monsters back. Talia wanted to cheer. She had actually done it.

Someone grabbed her by the shoulder. “Got you!”

She panicked. Alicia knew her but she wasn’t getting up. She couldn’t save her, not if this was a guard.

Without thinking, Talia grabbed the hand, twisted its fingers, and bit into it with all her might. The man howled and let go. Talia started scrambling toward the shadows. She had to get away. If they recognized her, they -

“Talia?”

It was Alicia’s voice. It sounded bleary and confused but it was hers.

She was almost to the shelter of the buildings. A few more steps and they would never find her. She would disappear in the shadows. The Ratway wasn’t far, dark and safe, full of promises that no one would ever hurt her again.

But she couldn’t just leave. She didn’t hear anyone following her. So she turned around. Just a little. She just wanted to make sure Alicia was okay.

Alicia was tottering to her feet, helped by the woman with blonde hair. The man Talia had bitten was grasping his hand, his face contorted in agony. Good. Served him right for grabbing her like that.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, taking a few, unsteady steps forward. “It’s not safe here. You could get hurt.”

“Some chance of that,” the man said, nursing his hand and glaring at her. “If she isn’t a vampire, she sure bites like one.”

“What’d you expect?” the blonde-haired woman asked. “The way she took on those thrall, you should have known better than to startle her like that.”

A few of the other soldiers laughed too. Talia felt herself turning red. She shouldn’t have done anything. She should have just left.

“You saved me?”

Alicia’s voice cut through all the others, soft and confused as it was. Talia shuffled and managed a nod.

“Came out of nowhere,” the man said, his tone changing from injured and angry to something different. “Ran right through the fire before any of us could stop her and tried to wake you up. Then she sees the thrall coming and just stands over you, pulls out the most miserable little knife I’ve ever seen, and takes on a damn giant twice her size.”

Talia didn’t move. She wanted to ask who they could possibly be talking about because it surely wasn’t her, but Alicia was smiling like it was so she didn’t say anything.

“Did you, now?” she asked, her smile growing wider. Talia managed a nod. “Well, Talia, it sounds as though I owe you my life. What can I do to repay you?”

The question was so completely ridiculous that Talia nearly laughed. Repay her? That wasn’t - no one said that to her, especially no one wearing armor.

She fidgeted uncomfortably. “Can I stay?”

Alicia’s smile widened. “I would have to be a fool to send away such brave help a second time. Of course you can. Here, this is for you. We can’t have you protecting me without a weapon.”

Reaching one hand behind her back, Alicia unbuckled a dagger and offered it to her. Talia inched forward, giving the man she had bitten a wide berth. She still couldn’t believe they weren’t trying to kill her.

The handle alone was beautiful. A bronze hilt with black leather wrapped about the handle, little carvings running up and down the metalwork that sat below the blade. She hardly dared to draw it but she knew it would shine like the sun when she did.

Alicia gently put one hand on her shoulder. Talia jumped but she didn’t bolt. Not when it was Alicia. “Come on. Let’s find you a place to rest. I think you’ve earned it.”


	38. The Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela and the Companions fight their way through Whiterun's streets

All her life, Aela had been waiting for a fight like this. She had been waiting without knowing, but now that it was here, she knew it was hers for the taking. Her blood pounded in her ears like war drums, her every breath choked with acrid smoke, the sting of it threatening to blind her, but even now her fingers were steady and her aim had never been truer. This was the moment she had been born for and it had only just begun.

Jorrvaskr lit the courtyard with its burning crowd, insulted but unbowed. It towered over the rest of Whiterun in defiance, just as the Companions did. Aela slid another arrow from her quiver before sending another vampire back to the grave. It felt good - really good. Here was an enemy that could challenge the Circle itself. Here was something worthy of her aim. So long fighting bears and giants and she had almost forgotten what real battle felt like.

Her brothers and sisters fought all around her. Ria, her shield carelessly high, held the steps to burning hall. Even as she cut down another thrall and Aela pierced another through the heart, she saw every flaw in the fool girl’s form. If she survived this, Aela would personally thump her from one end of the courtyard to the other until the woman slept with her arm at a proper guard. Her eyes wanted to roll and she wanted to scream that the enemy was more a threat to her ankles than her ears, but now was not the time. Another vampire fell, an arrow in its back, and Aela turned her eyes toward new prey.

She had stayed human for the fight so far. It was a calculated insult that surely went right over the heads of the now-panicking vampires. They ran - for all the good it did them - and did not think for a moment that they fought more than men in this clearing. Aela could have ripped every one of the apart with nothing more than her own teeth and claws, but this fight was not worth it. Not yet.

The blood rushed harder through her veins. Soon, it promised her. Soon.

Some of the new bloods were doing their best to hold the stairs to the market. One had fallen, a boy who thought the size of his hammer made up for the size of his brain, while two more stood firmly in his place. It was a shame, losing such a promising recruit, but she could not grieve for him now. His song would be short but she would sing it nonetheless. His last fight had been a good one. He deserved to be remembered.

Aela did not wait for them to cut down the final thrall. She turned toward the Temple of Kynareth, another arrow speeding forth to stop a vampire from escaping. The flames here were not as forgiving as those at Jorrvaskr. It wouldn’t be long before it was nothing more than a pile of ash. The sight of it struck Aela where she was weak. It had always held a soft spot in Aela’s heart. Too few songs were sung about the healers of the world. Many times her own wounds had been closed by the priestesses that called the temple home, and tonight they would be doing better work than all the Companions put together. She hoped they had all escaped. So close to Jorrvaskr, it would be a mark of shame on all the Companions if any had fallen to the vampires tonight.

The fight ended as at last she spared a glance for Dragonsreach. She allowed herself a moment, watching fireballs arc up toward the roof. A keep that had once imprisoned a dragon going up in flames. It seemed profound. It also seemed damned stupid. The dragon hadn’t managed to burn the thing down. Had they truly fallen so far that they could not handle this rabble when their ancestors had subdued a dragon? If they were watching, they would surely be furious.

“You wanted a good fight,” Aela murmured. “Well, here you are.”

She laid another arrow on the string, her ears perking up as boots thundered across the square. She counted steps of her brothers and sisters, knowing them without needing to look. Stumbling uncertainty from the new bloods, a bumbling sort of trot from Ria, and the heavy confidence of Skjor.

It was Skjor who spoke first. “How did you fare, sister?”

“I kept my feet, didn’t I?” Aela answered tersely. She was never much for small talk. There were better words she needed to be speaking right now. The newer Companions had already gathered to hear them and Aela turned to face them. “I’m glad I can say the same for all of you. You fought well, and all of you will be needed tonight. Whether you knew it or not, this is why you joined us at Jorrvaskr.”

The new bloods looked as steady as rabbits in a burning hutch but so be it. They were not born to this. Not like those of the Circle, but so long as they did not run, she would sing with them when all of this was done. Her verse would just be longer. As it always was.

“Aela is right,” Skjor said, coming around to stand beside her. “The Companions did not choose this fight, but we will not run from it. Whatever we face tonight, we face it without fear.”

One of the new bloods kept glancing behind him toward the market and the body of the other recruit. Aela looked him in the eye and kept his gaze from shifting. “With bravery, brother, not without fear. You there, new blood. You’re afraid. I can smell it.”

The boy seemed to blanch and Aela let slip a too-wolfish grin. He tried to shake his head. “No. I -”

“Not without fear. That is what I said. Your ears are weak but hopefully your arm is stronger. To be afraid is no failing. Not if you stand beside your brothers and sisters when they, too, feel their doubts begin to grow.” She caught the eyes of his partner, a young woman that looked steadier on her feet if weaker in the arm. “Do you feel those doubts?”

“I do.”

“Do you feel them with your brothers and sisters beside you?”

“No, Huntress,” she answered quickly, her tone steady. She wasn’t lying. “Not with the Companions beside me.”

“After tonight, you will take the Companions with you wherever you go,” Aela quipped. “To induct all of you with another rite would be foolish. As of now, every one of you is a trusted sibling, worthy of sharing our table and drinking our mead.”

That perked the boy up. Daft as he was, the idea of having a new name after all this was enough to still his shaking legs. When had their numbers grown so soft?

So long as he fought, Aela would not complain. Skjor spoke next. “Aela is right. This night is a trial that no other Companion has faced, not since the days of our founding. All who fought tonight, those who died with honor and those who survived to live in glory, shall be remembered.”

“What do we do next?” It was Ria who asked the question.

Aela turned to see her shaking the stiffness from her shield arm. She indulged herself for but a moment. “You hold that shield like a Companion and stop cowering behind it like a child. I trained you better than that. You would do well to remember it is a weapon, used to meet blades, claws, and fire. It’s a fair bit smaller than a castle wall. You should not treat it like one.”

Ria obligingly hefted her shield, properly chastised but now unsure what to do with her arm. She held the shield at her side, raising it and lowering it awkwardly until it settled by her hip. At least she was conscious of it now.

“As for the rest of you,” Aela said, turning toward the Cloud District. “The guards are holed up around the keep. We’ll make ourselves known protecting those still trapped in the city. Skjor, I want -”

More footsteps up from the market. Aela’s bow was drawn and aimed before anyone else had noticed. It had gone too quiet down there. The fighting had died to a murmur and now someone was coming up the steps. Two someones, and both of them too light to be human.

A figure appeared and Aela aimed for her throat.

It was only for a moment, just the barest glimpse of her face in the firelight but there was no mistaking it. Her fingers froze on the string. Her arrow refused to fly.

Then she was gone, vanished behind a building at the edge of the plaza.

Only then did the Companions turn. Skjor scoured the edge of the buildings, hunched over like a wolf. She was actually surprised he had stayed human this long. The new bloods looked nervously at every flickering shadow, some of them pointing the complete wrong direction. It was a good thing the Circle was here in strength and not out adventuring when the attack had come.

“What was it?” Skjor growled.

Aela stared at the building and let the string on her bow grow slack. “Someone I never thought I’d see again. Skjor, take them to the Cloud District. Make sure they don’t do anything that would get them killed.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to meet an old friend,” Aela said easily.

“Is now the best time to be running off alone?”

Aela scoffed. “I won’t be alone. Not unless my eyes played tricks on me. Be off. There are others who need the Companions more urgently than I do.”

Skjor hesitated, glaring once again at the house. From the way his nose was twitching, he could smell someone was back there. “Very well. But be quick about it. I do not want to come searching for you amid all this smoke and fire.”

“If I am not back quickly, there will be no need to come looking,” Aela countered glibly.

That might not have put her friends at ease but it was the truth of it. She knew her limits. It would be a tough fight, one that would force her to reveal her true nature inside the walls of Whiterun, but she had little doubt who would come out on top. Their sparring matches had always been intense. If the woman had gotten herself turned into a vampire, there would be no stopping her.

Skjor barked something that made all his underlings jump. Ria was the first to go scampering off toward the battle, eager to make a name for herself and never caring if that name was Fool. The new bloods ran after, just ahead of Skjor. Aela watched them vanish in the smoke and wondered idly if she should have gone with them.

It was almost certainly the smarter choice. As much as she loved the thrill of the hunt, tonight was not a night for hunters, but for killers. The pack was needed, not the lone wolf. And what was she supposed to say? It was plain enough what was happening inside the city. She did not need to explain how dire the situation was and she did not want to explain how intimately she knew it. So many Companions had fallen and the night was still so young.

Aela turned to face the stairs to the market and the dancing shadows all around them. The ring of buildings, their faces cast in bright orange, trailed long shadows that shifted with the whims of a thousand fires. It was not much of a hiding place for any normal woman, human or vampire.

But Aela knew few normal women. “I never thought I’d see you again, sister.”

There was a moment of silence before a pale face appeared from the darkness. The vampire, its eyes burning red and its fangs poorly hidden behind its lips, stared nervously at the arrow pointed at its heart. “This was not exactly how I’d imagined out meeting. I never thought I’d find myself at the point of one of your arrows. I must have offended you terribly.”

Aela smirked. “It’s been a busy night. You must understand my caution. I’ve seen a lot of your kind tonight and none of them have been very polite.”

“We’re not much on table manners,” the woman said, her voice carrying an unfamiliar tone of levity. Coming back from the dead must have that effect on people. “And I’m afraid I won’t be much better. Time is short and I need your help. Please, sister. You must trust me when I say I am here to help you.”

That was what she had hoped to hear, though whether it was true remained to be seen. She let her arrow hover over the vampire’s heart for a moment. Aela remembered her from her days at Jorrvaskr. They had shared many meals together, both in the hall and out under the stars. They had grown close, or as close as could be managed. This was truly not at all how Aela expected to meet her again.

But she seemed sincere. Aela could trust that. And she seemed… different. “I hope so,” she said at last, lowering her bow and offering her a smile. “It has been too long, Eira. This may not be how you imagined our meeting but I can think of no better time for you to return to us.”

Eira stepped fully into the light, smiling and making her way toward Aela at the center of the clearing. “I’m glad to be here, sister. I cannot stay long, but I will help however I can. Just tell me what you need.”

“Surely you can see for yourself,” Aela said wryly. “Jorrvaskr is in flames, as is half of Whiterun.”

“What of the Jarl?”

Aela grimaced. “Dead.”

“Gods,” Eira murmured. “How?”

“Ambush. They got inside the castle while we sat in our hall, content to tell stories and grow fat. If this is to be the end of the Companions, I do not begrudge the loss of that particular tale.”

“They had thousands of years to plan this, sister, there is no shame in being taken off guard.” Eira put one hand on Aela’s shoulder and took a few steps toward the palace. “I still see fighting up there. Who’s holding out?”

“Whoever is left,” Aela said with a shrug. “We’ve heard little since the fight began. I would imagine the defense of the palace is in the hands of the steward, if he still lives, and if not, who can say? Whatever the case, we have been unable to reach them. Our eyes have been fixed on the survivors inside the city. The Cloud District has held out well against the assault. The rest of the Companions are no doubt helping the Legion hold their line.”

“The Legion is here?”

“Not in force, but the Jarl had planned on hosting them for something. Involving Whiterun in the war seemed foolish at the time but as of now, I can only thank the Gods they were here.”

Eira made a noise that Aela knew all too well. She may have been quiet about it but Imperial politics were always a good way to make Eira squirm. “That’s good. The more soldiers we have here, the better.”

“We haven’t been able to push into the market yet. I haven’t heard any fighting for some time. Can I assume that was your doing?”

Another noise, this one of disgust, mixed with a look of pure sorrow on Eira’s face. “Yes, but I’m afraid the news is bad. The vampires there are dead or fleeing, but it was too late for anyone there. Maybe a few lucky ones who managed to hide under their beds. The rest were turned into thralls or worse.”

She had known the answer already, but knowing did not soften the blow. “What did you see?”

Eira looked like she wanted to be sick. “The main gate is broken. They had the city penned up until we broke through. It was a mess inside. The courtyard was full of them. So was the market. The way is clear now, but I would not call it a pleasant walk. Too many fought back, I think. They didn’t take many prisoners, Aela. There are too many familiar faces now lying in the dirt. It will not be an easy road to take.”

Aela cursed. “Then we failed them, too.”

“You aren’t to blame for this, sister,” Eira said quietly, her eyes going distant. The words sounded sincere but from her tone she was trying to convince herself they were true. “You did the best you could, and you’re still alive to make a difference now. The people here will need the Companions now more than they ever have before.”

“I was not proposing I fall on my sword just yet,” Aela said glibly. “Though I take your point. If you are here to help, I will gladly accept your offer. I think we can both agree you will be better off on your own.”

Eira had the decency to chuckle. “Agreed. I wasn’t really looking forward to explaining my sudden fondness for raw meat.”

“An attitude like that isn’t so far from ours,” Aela quipped. “Even so, best not to waste time. Do you have a plan?”

“Cut off the head and the body dies,” Eira said with a very insincere shrug.

“Not the best plan I’ve heard all night.”

“I’m not good with plans but we’ve been making do. We haven’t had time for much else.”

Aela cocked her head. “We? I thought you worked alone.”

Eira looked back toward the building. She didn’t say anything, just watched the shadows in silence. A moment later, Aela saw another vampire step into the light. The sight of her made Aela’s fingers twitch and she thought she felt her lips curling up in a sneer. Luckily Eira was facing the other way and Aela had time to hide it.

“Friend of yours?” she asked when she had regained her composure.

“Something like that,” Eira said quietly. The fondness in her voice made Aela turn in surprise.

Suddenly she found herself jealous of the vampire. It was absurd. Eira had been her friend, nothing more. They had always been close but that was just how they were. It was not like Aela had been waiting for her or had expected Eira to come running back when her wounds, whatever they were, had healed.

By the time Eira turned back to face Aela, she found a smile on her face. “Good.”

Eira actually reddened. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

The other vampire stayed where she was, eyeing Aela from the relative safety of the shadows. She was pretty, for someone fresh out of the grave. Not that it mattered right now. All Aela was concerned about was how well she could hold up in a fight, and from all the way over there, she did not look like much. That left Eira doing all the legwork.

“You sure you’re up for this?” She asked it in as delicate a way as possible but now was not the time for subtlety. “These vampires mean business and you’ve been out of it for a while. Hunting bandits doesn’t prepare you for something like this.”

The vampire actually smirked. So did Eira. “We’ll manage. Just point us at the biggest, nastiest clump of monsters you can find.”

Sensing they were wanted, one of those big, nasty monsters threw another fireball the size of a pony toward the walls of Dragonsreach. Aela nodded in the direction it came from. “That would be a good place to start. They dug themselves in on the palace steps. Last I heard, the worst of them were holding out off to the west.”

Eira nodded. “We’ll clear them out. What about you? Can you hold out down here?”

“You ask me as though I have a choice,” Aela said brusquely. “We will be fine, sister. We will not abandon the city. The Circle will not run.”

“Stubborn as ever, I see.”

“Famously.”

Eira looked over her shoulder and her vampire friend took it as an invitation to begin wandering over. “We don’t have long to spare, sister, but I promise we’ll do everything we can while we’re here.”

On that she had no doubt. She paused, sensing it was time to leave them to their work. “It was good to see you again, sister.”

“And you, Aela.”

“Next time, I hope it is under better circumstances. Know that if we survive this, I cannot say you would be welcomed by all in Jorvasskr, but I would be honored to hunt with you again one day. I would love to hear all the tales of your travels. No doubt they are among the best.”

Eira’s lips quirked into a smile. “Depends on who you ask.”

Aela gave her a nod, then spared a second for her friend. She was not good at farewells. Without another word, she turned her back on Eira and started off toward the Cloud District. The fight had not stopped for their reunion, but it had certainly tilted in its balance. The market had been overrun. She had seen it with her own eyes. She had been visiting someone dear to her when the first vampires came pouring through the gate. She had seen the destruction they had wrought.

And Eira had cut through them all, alone except for what help her friend could offer. If they could do that on their own, maybe they had a chance here after all. A part of her wanted to go with them just to watch them work. It would surely be a fight for the ages.

Up ahead, amid the smoke and embers of the Cloud District, were what remained of the Companions. They would need her help far more than Eira tonight. She had her place at the table and she would take her seat. She only wished she had been granted a better view. At least there was enough of a meal to go around. Wherever she found herself tonight, there would be no shortage of heroic acts that needed performing, no shortage of ways to add verses to her song. Thoughts like that gave her comfort.

From behind her, she heard Eira speak again. “Alright. We clear the way to Dragonsreach and the Companions handle the rest. Then we have to go.”

There was a soft laugh before her friend spoke, and her voice made Aela suddenly more envious of Eira than her companion. “Just a friend, am I?”

Eira let out an audible sigh. “The next time we see her, I’ll tell her you’re the light of my life, dear.”


	39. Like a Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia and Talia take in a moment of quiet during the battle for Riften

Rain. Any other night and it would have been a godsend. Half the city was ablaze and here by the mercy of Mara herself was something to put out the fires.

Tonight, Alicia could only stare at the sky and wonder what else could possibly add to the miseries of her poor Dawnguard. Sensible woman that she was, she knew that saying as much out loud was the fastest way to find out, but she could not stop herself from wondering. The vampires were herding them like cattle, the city guards were almost deliberately unhelpful, and the only trained soldiers for miles around had only been soldiers for a matter of weeks. She had almost stopped worrying about things food and water because they had enough on hand to last the next ten minutes and thinking beyond that seemed laughably optimistic. Finding healers, or just clean bandages and a few potions, proved more than enough to occupy her tired mind.

She scrubbed the rainwater from her forehead and smiled in spite of everything. It could be worse. There was still at least one hero in Riften. Tired, hungry, and now soaked to the bone, but a hero nonetheless.

“Hey.” Alicia tried to speak as softly as she could but the poor thing still jumped even at her whisper. This little thing had saved her life? From an army of thrall? “You look hungry. You should eat something.”

Still shivering, probably from the adrenaline as much as the cold, Talia just blinked at her, like the words didn’t make sense. They probably didn’t. Whatever this girl had been through, it probably didn’t involve people with swords and uniforms offering her free meals.

And Alicia had not exactly been helpful in telling her she should eat. Damned stupid of her, actually, of course she should eat. She had something on her, didn’t she? She fished in her pocket for a moment and pulled out what felt like a small rock wrapped in an old sock. The biscuit, wrapped in a somewhat-clean cloth, was hardly a meal fit for a hero, but it was all she had.

Alicia held out the biscuit in what she hoped was a nonthreatening sort of way. “Here. It’s a bit old, so try not to chip a tooth or something, but it’s still good. I promise.”

The girl’s eyes flicked between Alicia and the pitiful offering, suspicious and terrified but very obviously starving. Like a stray dog that had been kicked too many times.

Hunger won in the end. Alicia liked to think it was because the girl trusted her but there was no ignoring the way she hunched over her food, peeling the cloth away so carefully but so greedily at the same time. She was so small. Just skin and bones and rat-chewed cloth. And all Alicia had given her was a biscuit. She could have at least managed a sweetroll.

Talia didn’t seem to care. She bit into the stale bread with little care for her teeth, inhaling every small bite until, out of nowhere, she stopped.

“Thank you.”

The voice was so timid it might have come from a mouse. Alicia found herself smiling to reassure the girl. “It’s nothing. Is it good? Yeah? Well, once we’re done here, I’ll take you to see Corrine. She’s the one who made that rock you’re gnawing on. Tell her you liked it and she’ll sit you down and feed you till you burst.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled as a little of that fear began to fade. “Really?”

Alicia winked. “All the rest of us do is complain. You’ll be her first big fan.”

Very slowly, Talia started to uncurl, changing from a starving dog crouched over its last meal to someone who could at least savor her dinner for a few moments. She still looked nervous, and Alicia did not blame her in the slightest, but her shoulders weren’t as hunched as they were a moment before, her eyes less frantic. What was left of the biscuit, she turned over in her hands, examining it before inhaling what remained.

She took another bite and tried to smile. “It’s very good.”

Alicia felt herself glowing at what was without a doubt the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. This poor girl must have been through some hard times if this bread-shaped rock was such a treat for her. Maybe this was her chance to get to know the girl.

“Well, if you like it so much,” Alicia said, trying to lean in without spooking her. “You might have to do something for me in return.”

Talia froze. Her eyes went wide and fixed on Alicia in pure terror.

Alicia panicked. “No, nothing bad! Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like, uh, like anything, actually. I just - shit, I’m awful at this - you saved my life. The way you ran out there to save me was incredible. I should have died out there. And after everything you went through, with the vampire and, well just everything, I just wanted to know more. About you. So. Uh. How - how old are you? You look… um…”

Eventually she trailed off, unsure of how to convince the poor girl this inept and apparently predatory soldier was not actually trying to take advantage of her. Talia stayed perfectly still, eyes flicking between Alicia and her half-eaten food. Somewhere in the stream of meandering babble, she had latched onto something that meant she didn’t have to run for the Ratway. Whatever it was, Alicia hoped she had more like it hidden away. She didn’t want to lose this girl because of her uncoordinated tongue.

Still tense as a bowstring, Talia’s eyes locked with Alicia’s. “Eighteen. Or thereabout.”

Alicia sighed in relief. Okay. She was talking. That was something. “Wow. Eighteen? You’re not much younger than me, are you? I’m nineteen and only by a few days.”

Talia refused to let go of Alicia’s gaze, her eyes cold and her expression guarded. Alicia had seen that look before. It wasn’t one she wanted to see on Talia.

“You look older.”

The bluntness of the statement took Alicia so completely off balance that she burst out laughing. Talia flinched but stayed where she was, waiting quietly until Alicia managed to compose herself. “I suppose I can’t argue, can I?” Alicia asked, sitting back and absentmindedly running a hand through her hair. “I feel older. The last few days have felt like years and I’ve no doubt they’ve aged me a decade.”

The memories came rushing toward the surface so suddenly Alicia had to close her eyes to keep them at bay. She couldn’t think about them. Not now.

Talia noticed, of course. “What happened?”

It was an innocent question but one Alicia could hardly bring herself to answer. She shifted against the wall as though she could just shrug the question from her shoulders. “I wouldn’t know how to describe it. We thought we were getting ready to save the world from the vampires. We couldn’t even save ourselves. I, uh, lost a lot of friends that day. I’m sorry.”

Alicia found herself shying away from Talia’s eyes. This girl had just watched someone she cared about die. She had probably held her in her arms while it happened. She didn’t want to hear about how hard Alicia had it.

But, when Alicia found her eyes again, they were softer. They weren’t as bright as they had been before, but neither were they afraid. Alicia let herself smile at that. You had to take the little victories where you could find them.

At last Talia let her eyes return to her meal. She had a piercing stare for someone so small. “I understand.”

“I know you do,” Alicia said quietly. “The Ratway must have been hard, even before tonight. I can’t imagine what it took to survive there.”

Talia shrugged and started nibbling at her meal. “She made it easier.”

Alicia waited and watched Talia continue to eat, wondering what to say. Nothing came to her. She had been through it before. The last few days had been nothing but a string of questions. Where was Anora? Had anyone seen her? What about Lisette? Carver? Veld? Miri?

She honestly didn’t know if the questions or their answers were worse. So many had died in the snow. At the gates, in the halls, in their rooms, in the mountains, and even after making it all the way to Riften, to safety, some had still died in their beds. She had lost so many. The ones who were still alive were no longer even human. They were just waiting. Just like she was.

Talia had begun to shiver. She had stopped eating and was now staring at her boots in a blind panic. Alicia tried to swallow but found her mouth was dry. Some captain she was. She was supposed to be helping these people, not dragging them down after they saved her life.

“What am I even doing here?”

The words made her jump even as she spoke them. Alicia watched as Talia tried to curl up into a ball and stop her hands from trembling. That she had seen before. The girl was losing it. Everything was coming back and the shock of it was too much to bear. She had to do something. She couldn’t just let this happen. She wasn’t losing anyone else tonight.

“I had a friend like that. Ava, right? It wasn’t the same, but she was at the fort when…” she shook her head and sighed. “It helps to talk about it, I suppose. You asked what happened to us? We thought we were invincible. Fort Dawnguard was something out of a dream; high walls all covered in ivy, waterfalls that turned to ice when the weather changed. There were caves under the mountains where we trained or stole away for a night when we wanted to rebel.”

Describing Fort Dawnguard made her realize how little attention she had paid to all those details while she was there. She had spent most of her time staring up at the mountains, dreaming of what was on the other side. Watching Eira leave with her pet vampire had been infuriating and not because she wanted to stick an arrow in them. She wanted to follow them, to be like them. They were the heroes in the story, not her. It had made her jealous. She hadn’t run away from home to guard a gate and watch others fight for her.

The gods had a sense of humor, it seemed, because looking at Talia, those details she had ignored for so long were sights this girl would have died to see. She was staring up at her, eyes wide, the weight of the world lessened, if not forgotten. “It sounds amazing.”

“It was. Truly, I can’t do it justice. Seeing it for the first time was something I’ll never forget.” For better or worse, that much was true. Maybe if it had looked a little more run down, she would have given up, gone home, and lived a life free of adventure. “I remember I came up through the courtyard, staring up at the battlements and running my hand along the stone. It was breathtaking. Mesmerizing. I was so taken in, I wasn’t looking where I was going. So whack!”

Alicia lifted her hand to where the practice sword had struck her. “Right in the head. Still got a bruise, probably. Lucky for me, I’ve got a thick head, so I just saw stars, but damn if it didn’t hurt.”

Talia’s lips began to twitch. “What happened?”

“Well, it turns out I wandered into the sparring grounds. Some damn fool thought it’d be fun to show off her sword skills and caught me right in the head when I came around the tower. She was one of the other new recruits so she sort of lost it. Next thing I remember, there’s two of her looming over me, everything’s all fuzzy, and I can’t feel my legs.” Alicia chuckled at the memory and smiled wider when she caught Talia nurturing a smile of her own. “So she’s already swept me off my feet, right? She takes me inside, gets me seen to and I have the honor of being the Dawnguard’s newest recruit as well as their first wounded in action. I thought I did pretty well on my first day.”

Alicia settled back and looked up at the sky, playing out the memories on the gray clouds above. “She came by later that night to check on me. I told her I was fine but I wouldn’t mind a drink. Not my best line, but hey, it worked on her. We were fast friends. We played cards, we trained, we spent most of our meals together. She was like family.”

She tilted her head toward Talia whose eyes had turned almost glassy. She knew where the story was going. “Is she…?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. When the attack came, she was out foraging with some others. I like to think she made it. She was off in the woods, away from the vampires, so she had a better chance than the rest of us. With everything happening, all the smoke and everyone just trying to stay alive, I didn’t think to look for her until we were already halfway to Riften.” She turned her head to face Talia. She didn’t have much in the way of inspiring speeches, but that would not stop her from trying. “You’re scared, aren’t you? It’s okay if you are. I am, too.”

Talia nodded and seemed to shrink into the cracks in the wall. “Yes. I am. I’m in the middle of all of you - soldiers. I risked my life for someone who should want me dead. I’m a thief and I - and Ava’s dead and I miss her. I just…”

Seeing the girl start to curl up again, Alicia managed to get her creaking bones to move her a little closer. “Whatever you were before tonight, Talia, you’re a hero now. You saved my life. Everyone here saw it. They all know it. To them, you’re the girl on the bridge. That’s what they’ll remember. That’s what I see when I look at you. I see someone who had nothing to gain by putting herself in harm’s way. I see someone who could have more easily hidden in the Ratway until everything was over. I see someone who, by every right, should have done just that. You’ve known no love from the soldiers here and they were probably far kinder than the city guard. I see someone who’s had a hard life but, for all her doubt, her hunger, and her fear, still stood up for someone for no other reason than to do the right thing.”

As Alicia spoke, a man wearing a quartermaster’s uniform stopped near the wall with a small bundle in his arms. She motioned to him, rising to her feet and shaking some of the water from her cloak. Talia looked nervously from Alicia to the soldier. He came closer, handing the bundle to Alicia as he tried to give Talia a respectful nod before saluting and continuing on his way. Alicia unfolded the cloth and was pleased to find not only a coat, but a hood and warm trousers to go with them. There was even a pair of boots. In the Dawnguard for an hour and already someone was kissing up to her.

Talia had gotten up and moved into Alicia’s shadow, placing her almost out of sight of the quartermaster. Alicia turned, offering the clothes with a smile. Talia’s face brightened and her eyes lingered on the hood.

“See?” She passed the clothes to Talia, plucking the boots of the stack and eyeing them. “You’re one of us, now, and we take care of our own. These are good leather. Here, try them on. They look a little big but maybe you can pad them with something. Take that shop and get changed. I’ll keep an eye out.’

Talia put the clothes under her arm and snatched the boots off the ground before hopping toward the building. She was still holding half a biscuit but did something with her hands that made it disappear. Alicia blinked and spent a long moment wondering where it could have possibly gone before regaining control of her thoughts.

Some pep talk that had been. She had managed to keep the girl from losing it altogether, but that was about it.

As she watched Talia vanish into the building, she let her eyes unfocus, her sight passing through the walls and across the lake, through the snow and the trees and the mountains where so many of her friends had stayed behind. Fort Dawnguard loomed, blackened and silent, its courtyard the domain of crows. She knew she would never go back. Even if the cold preserved them and the wolves spared them, she could not stand to see them all again.

She didn’t like lying, not to her people and certainly not to her friends, but Talia had deserved a better story. She had known a girl like Ava. She had walked into the sparring grounds and taken a blow to the head from her sword. There had been two of her, standing over her, carrying her to the hospital. They had spent many lonely nights together, playing cards and telling stories.

And she had died in the snow, her sword broken in two, her laugh turned to a scream. She had died, and it was like she had never lived.

 

The boots were perfect. The coat was warm and a little big but that just meant it fit perfectly over her other layers of clothes. She wasn’t sure about the hood just yet. It would keep her ears warm and the rain out of her eyes but she didn’t like the way it muffled everything around her. She stood in front of the door for a long moment, flipping it up, then down, then up again before she finally left it up. Then there was her cloak. It felt strange hanging around her neck with the coat to keep her warm, but she found she couldn’t part with it so there it would stay.

Alicia waited for her in the street outside. She was talking to another soldier, pointing sharply toward the market and again toward the docks. She wasn’t worrying about whether her hood was up or down. There was work to be done, a city to save, people to deliver from the clutches of a living nightmare.

Talia decided she could learn a thing or two from her.

“Be brave, huh? What is that supposed to mean?” Talia cinched her coat tighter and pulled at the sides of her trousers. “Probably not this. Taking handouts from the guards, saving their lives. I wasn’t supposed to be here. How am I supposed to be brave now that I am?”

If Ava had answered, Talia would not have been the least bit surprised. This was the sort of night where guiding spirits visited lost souls, after all. Whatever wisdom she would have offered Talia was lost in the quiet patter of rain and the distant shouts of the Dawnguard still fighting on the far side of the canal. Alicia would probably be going there next to sort it out and save the rest of Riften. The thought made Talia’s stomach drop. She didn’t want to be in a battle. Not again.

“And what good did that advice do you?” Talia hissed, suddenly bitter. “You sold me out. Why? Why did you do that? I know you were scared but you could have told me. I was scared, too. I would have understood. We could have gone away, like we talked about. Gods damn you, Ava, you could have just talked to me.”

What was left of the empty shop creaked and groaned, the lanterns in the window guttering in the breeze. This had been a makeshift hospital after the explosion on the bridge. Blood still slicked the floor behind the counter and stained the litters stacked beside the door. Those had seen too much use tonight and no doubt someone would be by soon to pick them up. There was always a need for stretcher bearers. Maybe that was how she could help. She could probably carry someone if she had another person helping her. And she was good at running away.

Alicia turned toward the building, briefly catching sight of Talia and smiling. She still felt the urge to duck or make herself Quiet but at least Alicia had been kind to her. Talia tried to smile back but Alicia was already looking away, speaking quickly as another soldier in strange armor came running down the street. The Dawnguard really were a strange bunch. They all looked so young. The way Alicia talked about them, you would have thought they were a bunch of farmers. But here they were, fighting vampires as easily as they played at cards. That was brave.

Fine. Ava wanted her to be brave, so she would be brave. She would go out there with Alicia and the Dawnguard and the vampires. Nevermind that the Ratway was right under her feet, completely safe from all the swords and fangs and fire. The Dawnguard wouldn’t stop her if Alicia was telling the truth, and Talia very much wanted to believe her, so she could just hop over the railing and scuttle away into the dark whenever she liked. No one would find her down there.

She pushed the door open and started down the stairs. “This is stupid. What are you going to do in a fight? You’ve got a knife and they’ve got magic. You don’t even know how to fight. It’s not brave if you’re just going to die in the street. Should have learned that by now, girl.”

The last, muttered in her own voice but heard very clearly in Valen’s guttural laughter, got her to shut up. She clenched her jaw and folded her arms across her chest. He didn’t get to win. She would show him. She would do something important, be someone important. And he would be too dead to do anything to stop her.

Alicia was talking to another of her soldiers as Talia came into the street. A few lingered nearby, each patiently waiting with a life-or-death air hanging all around them. Just another strange thing these people all seemed to manage without a thought. Talia couldn’t make heads or tails of it, so she found herself slowing down as she neared Alicia. She wasn’t sure if she should join the line or walk up beside Alicia - she was supposed to be protecting her or something like that - and she was completely unable to decide how to act. Before she turned around and ran for the shop, Alicia noticed her and gave her a smile and a small, beckoning wave of her wrist. It was all Talia needed.

“Where did she send them?” Alicia was asking as Talia placed herself in the shadow of a nearby building. She may have been invited over but old habits died hard.

The soldier shook his head. “No one told me, ma’am. I only just heard about it from the Lieutenant.”

“Of course not,” Alicia grumbled. She tilted her head away from the soldier and off toward the lake. “Why send them to the docks? We can’t move the whole city by boat. It’s not much of a distraction. So why do it?”

Eavesdropping was another of those bad habits. Talia found herself turning red and trying her best to close her ears. Of course she continued to hear every word with almost painful clarity but she hoped the thought counted for something. She was supposed to be someone better than this.

She found herself peering away toward the canal, a pose that left one ear conveniently cocked toward the conversation. Try as she might, she couldn’t just stand around not listening. It was worth trying to convince herself that this was what Alicia would want. Surviving was something Talia did very well, and you only survived by knowing more than everyone else around you. Sometimes that meant knowing where the more dangerous people were going to be even before they did, other times it just meant knowing the best places to hide.

The canal, and the Ratway, taunted her. She was so close. It would have been the work of moments to pitch herself over the railing, swinging herself into the sewer pipe she knew was there and vanishing into the dark. The same pipe had sheltered her just hours before when she had been thinking only of saving Ava.

“Well, look who it is.”

The voice was low, angry, and horribly familiar. Talia had heard the man coming up the street but hadn’t thought anything of it. He was just another soldier, probably looking for Alicia’s attention.

He wasn’t supposed to talk to her.

The man groaned, the grindstone sound cutting Talia off before she could reply. “Yes, you. Figures you’d be here. Oh, don’t look surprised. We’ve all heard about you by now. The girl on the bridge is as famous as the captain.”

Talia had heard men talk alike this before. His words dragged too long, the tone of his voice menacing and soft and rolling like a rowboat on a windy day. She knew what happened when men got in a mood like that. This was the part where she ran and hid. Picking pockets was too dangerous around men like this. Even begging could end with her knocked down in the street.

When Talia stayed quiet, the man folded his arms and scowled. “Proved me wrong, didn’t you?”

Against everything her instincts were screaming, Talia opened her mouth. “What?”

“I thought you’d be useless. A damned waste of my time.” He nodded lazily toward the slums, sniffing in disdain. “Girl on the bridge. Girl in the grave, more like. That’s how I found you. Just another one of the dear captain’s lost causes.”

Talia shivered. To think that had only been a few hours ago. It felt like years. Like the tide, it all started to rush back, drop by drop, wave by wave, driving her back inside her own mind. She felt the panic clawing at her. The Ratway was flooding and she was trapped, the tunnels she had known all her life suddenly unfamiliar and full of rising water.

“And look at you now. You’ve got a brand new coat. Who’d she take that off? I’d check the seams if I were you. Might still have blood on it. Might not have even been dead yet, poor sod.” The man shook his head again, a tortured laugh grinding from his throat. “You weren’t useless at all, were you? No, and more’s the pity, I say.”

The water rose higher. Talia felt herself edging her way toward the canal. She could hide down there. There was no water down there, no one telling her she had done something horribly wrong. “I -”

“You don’t have to say anything to me, girl. You don’t have anything to say. You didn’t know. Wasn’t your fault, I suppose.” His gaze turned back to Alicia, and Talia felt herself pulling further away. “But you should have just let it happen.”

Should have - wasn’t Alicia saving them? All of them? She was fighting. No one else was doing that.

“If it weren’t for her, we could all have just gone home. She was like that in the mountains, too, you know. I’ll bet she told you that story. She loves that story. Big hero, the captain. Probably told you all about how she was just the loyal soldier, opening that stupid gate. Then the vampires came and knocked it right down. It’s a good story, isn’t it? Up from nothing, and all that. And she does have a way with words.” His eyes now turned to Talia, and they froze her as surely as any look from Valen ever had. “Now let me ask you this. Did she ever talk about the mountains? How many of us she left in the snow? She might not remember. Too busy talking about moving forward and fighting another day - she’s good with words, that one. But I remember. I know how many I left lying beside the trail. Five more minutes and I could have closed their wounds. But they’re dead now. Dead as yesterday. We left them screaming by the road, freezing and starving and knowing damn well they’d get eaten alive by whatever got their first. Don’t know if it was the vampires or the wolves that killed them, but something ate a damn good dinner that night.”

Talia felt herself shaking. Say something. Alicia had saved her life. She was better than that. She wouldn’t leave someone to - to -

“Ask her about that sometime, girl. Maybe next time someone throws fire at the brave Captain Seroven,” the man drawled, his eyes shining under his hood. “You’ll let us all go home.”

“What poison are you filling her ears with now, Thorvald?”

Whatever cords bound Talia in place were cut clean by Alicia’s voice. She felt herself pop upward, jumping back and nearly stumbling over the side of the road. The man, Thorvald, rolled his eyes and gave Talia a long look before answering. “You don’t poison someone’s ears, ma’am, that’s the daftest -”

“I don’t recall summoning you for your cutting commentary.”

“You didn’t summon me,” the man groused. “That’s the problem. I was just swarmed by a dozen half-dead soldiers and as many ham-handed surgeons. What in Oblivion happened to my forward station?”

Talia righted herself on the side of the road and tried to compose herself. Alicia was distracted. Had she heard what Thorvald said? Was this some sort of test of loyalty? Talia had failed if it was. She had just stood there, saying nothing, while the woman who had saved her life was torn apart. Those guttural words still echoed in her ears like thunder off the mountains. Mountains with roads lined with bodies, every one of them still moving. Alicia couldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have.

“I moved it.”

Alicia’s glib answer did little for the angry soldier. “I hadn’t fucking noticed.”

“You asked -”

“Why?”

Stabbing a finger in the direction of the canal, Alicia snapped “Because if one more vampire pushes over that bridge, your forward station is going to be a morgue.”

“That’s why you keep them on the other side of the water,” Thorvald growled back. “It’s easier to patch a man up when he’s hit than after you drag him through half a mile of rubble. Someone gets hit up here, they might not make it back that far.”

Talia looked blankly at the building she had used to change clothes. There had been a lot of blood on the floor. Alicia was right. It wouldn’t even have to be vampires that came over the bridge. A few thrall would butcher everyone inside. After what happened last time, she was right to be careful.

Wasn’t she? “They can’t make it back at all if they’re dead. I’ve given the order, Thorvald. Shouting will not change it.”

“You’re not even planning on holding the bridges, are you?”

Alicia rolled her eyes skyward. “Did you not just complain about how many wounded you were treating? Unless you’re going to tell me the Jarl finally came to her senses -”

“Where, then? The market? You would trade the barricades for apple carts?”

“Right now those apple carts actually have soldiers behind them. My barricades do not. And you are dismissed. If you want these bridges held so badly, tend to my wounded and give me the strength to hold them.”

With a frustrated shout that must have reached the market, Thorvald stomped off down the road. Alicia stayed where she was, glowering at his back. It was an opportunity Talia did not fail to notice. Everyone’s eyes were on the two important people. No one was watching her. The canal, and the safety of the Ratway, were right there. She had already failed Alicia’s test. She would certainly have to give back her clothes. She’d probably be beaten. Maybe they’d put her in the line and make her fight vampires.

This was insane. Staying was insane. She had to get out of here.

“That man is going to be the death of me.”

Alicia said the words with enough conviction to get Talia’s attention. She didn’t sound angry or even disappointed. It was enough to make Talia stop and turn her back on the canal.

She found Alicia already approaching her, eyes as kindly as ever. That was not how it was supposed to happen. Talia fidgeted, her coat suddenly itchy, her boots clamping down on her feet. It wouldn’t do her any good to start running now. She knew when she was caught.

Alicia stopped in front of her, brow knitting in concern. “He wasn’t too hard on you, was he? He’s a right pain in the ass to me and I can order him to shove off. I can’t imagine it’s easier on you.”

Whatever the right answer was, it had fled from Talia’s mind. She tilted her head up and tried to guess what she was supposed to say. “He didn’t say anything.”

“For a thief, you don’t lie very well, do you?” Alicia said, a strange smile coming over her. “He complains so well even our pack animals stay well clear of him.”

Talia found herself reddening at Alicia’s bluntness. She hadn’t been trying to lie to her, just to point her attention somewhere else, but she still felt embarrassed. “Why do you let him stay? If he’s so terrible, why not tell him to leave?”

Alicia groaned loudly. “Because the gods have a profound sense of humor, and though he makes me want to cut off my own ears, there is no one more qualified to sew them back on. I’ve seen him work wonders with nothing but healing herbs and a needle and that’s to say nothing of what he can do with his magic.”

“He’s a mage?”

“And a rather accomplished one, though you never heard that from me. I heard he spent a good deal of time at the College. Maybe they kicked him out for being such a downer.” Alicia looked up the road toward the market where Thorvald had disappeared around a bend. “I don’t know much about him, honestly. He was never friendly with the other recruits. In fact, I don’t even know that he was a recruit. He was just… there, you know?”

Talia nodded. She didn’t know at all, but she didn’t want to make Alicia explain something so trivial to her.

“Anyway, I suppose that’s not important now. I was concerned for you. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Now she did want to lie. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Alicia, but she had lived in the Ratway too long to ever really trust anyone. Alicia was just another person with a lot of power and a lot of people following her. She might have been different, like Talia thought she was, but some things never changed. There was more to the story, more than what Alicia had told her, and knowing that gave Talia a card in her hand, and she knew better than to tip it so early in the game.

And maybe, just maybe, the little voice in her head said, she might never need it at all.

Thoughts like that got people killed. Alicia gave her an odd look but let it drop all the same. “Alright, if you’re sure. Then again, you’ve probably seen worse than him in your time, haven’t you? Come on, grab your things.”

Having nothing to grab except what was in her pockets, Talia followed closely when Alicia turned away. “Where are we going?”

“To the market. We have work to do. And hey, now you get to see what the Dawnguard are all about.”

The Dawnguard, from what Talia had heard, were all about fighting vampires, something Talia wanted less than nothing to do with. She would be much happier just curling up in a hiding place and waiting this all out. That was how you survived in Riften; you let the big people kill each other and picked up whatever they left behind. Maybe she could convince Alicia that was the right thing to do.

Watching the armored woman tramp toward the distant marketplace, she didn’t think that was likely. So Talia stuck beside her, unwilling to leave but not quite eager to follow.

The darkened alleys all around them must have harbored a thousand hungry vampires and the rooftops suddenly towered all around them. Talia had climbed them before and knew it to be a short drop down to the street, but now they seemed to spiral into the heavens, pointed and ominous and hiding all sorts of monsters. It wasn’t until she brushed up against Alicia’s side that she realized how frightened she had become. A part of her had never left that alley in the slums, and now the rest of her was terrified that she was about to go back.

“Why didn’t you stay with the others?”

Talia jumped as Alicia spoke. The air was filled with noise, distant shouts mingled with the muffled boom of fireballs, but it still felt unnaturally still. It was too quiet here.

“What?”

“When I left you in the market,” Alicia said, her voice sounding calm. It wasn’t until Talia saw her eyes flitting among the rooftops that she realized she must have been just as worried. “I had thought you would have stayed. Maybe you would have hidden from the guards, and I wouldn’t have blamed you for that, but I thought you would have been safe there. Coming all the way out to the canal again… I don’t think I’d like to walk these alleys alone.”

She could hardly bring herself to argue, but she could try and keep her knees from knocking together. “I don’t think I would have been safe there.”

“Surrounded by men with swords? No, I suppose not.”

Talia folded her arms and tried to hide in her cloak but her coat got in the way. It not longer closed around her the way it used to. It made it harder for her to hide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry, but I’ve lived here for a long time. I’m safer when I’m alone. It’s easier to hide that way. No one noticed me before tonight and I liked it that way. Not until -”

She snapped her mouth shut, realizing in horror that she had never actually told Alicia why she was on the run tonight. Gods, what would she do if she found out? It wasn’t like she even had it on her anymore. She hadn’t thought to grab it off Valen when he died. It was still out there, under a pile of bodies, forgotten by everyone but her.

And, unfortunately for Talia, the Jarl.

Alicia had noticed her sudden pause. “Until? Is something wrong?”

“No, I…” Talia trailed off, staring sheepishly at the ground. She probably should have said something. Alicia deserved to know the truth about who she was protecting.

But her mouth stayed shut, her tongue stubbornly locked behind her teeth. Admitting she had stolen something, from a head of lettuce to the treasure of Mistveil Keep, was something sure to end in a beating if not a beheading. She couldn’t tell Alicia. What if they punished her, too? That wouldn’t be fair. But the Jarl was not a fair woman. Everyone in the Ratway knew that in their bones. No, the best way for her to stay alive, for both of them to stay alive, was to keep quiet.

So Talia lied. “The guards didn’t want anyone on the street tonight. I had to save Ava. That meant I had to leave to go find her. I wasn’t being careful and some of the guards saw me. I was afraid that they’d be in the market when you left me. If someone recognized me, I was afraid they’d kill me.”

The look Alicia gave her was far too sweet for someone like her, especially someone hiding so dangerous a secret as she was. “Well, lucky for you, you saved my life tonight. You leave anyone threatening you over something like that to me, okay?”

Talia nodded and wondered if something like that extended to stealing from the Jarl. “Thank you.”

Alicia shrugged, as though setting her life on the line for a common thief was an everyday occurrence. For someone like her, maybe it was. “Alright. Now, if you’re going to be a part of the Dawnguard you need to listen up. There’s something you need to know about the lot of us. It’s something that helps us fight the vampires, an ancient, secret art that has been passed down from vampire hunters in the ancient days.”

Talia perked up. She could hardly believe her ears. “What is it?”

“Something that will help us all get out of here alive. Now pay attention. It takes some practice, but you’re sharp, so I know you’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

As they rounded the next bend, Talia got her first look at the market since running off after Alicia. Somehow they had jammed even more people into the market square. The fountain at the center was covered in humanity, some of them taking desperate drinks from the water. In normal times, the guards would have been all over them, but tonight they had other worries. And, of course, these were noble families crowding the fountain. No one cared what they did.

And there were people everywhere. Some had even perched on the statues decorating the fountain’s center. It looked like a human pyramid. They clung to the merchant stalls, crammed into wagon beds, and had even climbed onto the roofs of the nearby shops. The quiet, panicked murmurs of the crowd carried through the open air, and every shadow had a dozen pairs of wide eyes staring out at the world.

Then there were the soldiers. Talia could see the same eyes peeping out from under helmets. They crowded behind carts pushed to the edges of the market, their bows and spears held to menace the darkness outside the circle of humanity. Torches blazed near every clump of guardsmen, the light casting bizarre shadows outside the ring. Talia was so busy staring at them, wondering if they would even recognize her, that she nearly tripped over the first of the frightened beggars. She knew some of them from the Ratway.

Of course they were outside the safety of the market. The guards probably -

Talia blinked in shock. There were beggars here, yes, but there were innkeepers, too. Merchants and craftsmen she had known to sell their wares every morning, reliable as the morning sun. And there were nobles, too, their fine clothes now covered in grime and wet with rainwater. They were all here, all huddled together in terror.

Alicia gave her a gentle nudge, urging her along as she entered the market. “And what I’m about to teach you will help us save these people, too. I’m going to have a word with the soldiers here, okay? I need to make sure these people aren’t left outside to die when the vampires come. And I’ll need a lot more help from the Jarl holding these bridges. The estates are a waste of time and - well, I’ll save it for her people. For you, I have a very important job.”

Her shock at seeing the masses of humanity all clumped together suddenly vanished as Talia perked up. “What is it?”

Alicia stopped just behind the first of the barricaded merchant carts. The guards gave her respectful nods. A few asked desperate-sounding questions about how things looked up there? She nodded back, reassuring them, steadying them with nothing more than her words.

Not one of them looked at Talia, and if they did, they saw someone else. They actually nodded to her, too.

“Do you see a good place to hide? Somewhere you can watch the bridge we just came from?”

Talia looked around, spotting a dozen such places before nodding in response. She pointed to a spot near one of the shops. “Right there.”

“Okay. Here’s the secret to surviving a vampire attack. Are you ready?”

Eager as ever, Talia nodded.

“You’re going to sit in that spot and you’re going to wait. You’re going to wait until you get bored, and then you’re going to keep waiting up until I get back.”

Talia blinked. “I -”

“That’s the secret, kid. Battles like this are a waiting game. Charging off into the dark waving your sword will only get you killed.” Alicia opened her mouth to continue but caught herself and chuckled. “Never thought I’d be the one saying that. Anyway, that’s how we’re going to get out of this alive. They’ll come for us, they’ll make a mistake, and we’ll be ready. Okay?”

Talia nodded eagerly. She didn’t really understand how that was supposed to work but she was more than willing to go along with it. “What are you going to do?”

Alicia shrugged, looking toward the other bridges. “I need to find whoever is in charge here and get them into shape. We’ve got to keep these people safe and hiding here isn’t going to cut it. That’s the other part of waiting. We need a plan. We need… well, we need something to put one over on the bad guys.”

The captain sighed, emerging as she often did behind one of Alicia’s tired smiles. “I don’t have enough people. If I could command the guards here to move, I’d put them on the bridges with my people. We’d have better luck there. But no, they’re scattered wherever they please. They’re on the docks, in the estates, following Isran into the slums. If I leave the bridges now, they’ll just swarm over. If I try to hold them, I lose people. We can’t just hide here. We need to get these people off the field. I’m holding the palace in one hand and the market in the other. I need one hand to fight with, they can’t both hold a shield.”

Talia looked around blankly. If Alicia was looking for help, she was asking the wrong person. Talia knew how to hide, not fight. She wasn’t one of the Dawnguard.

But Alicia was asking her. “Think of it like a game. You have to keep all these people safe. What would you do with them?”

Talia stared at the huddled masses. She wouldn’t do anything. She couldn’t. She would just hide. It was a stupid answer but that was all she had.

She looked plaintively at Alicia and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d hide them, I guess. In the Ratway.”

Alicia cocked her head. “Oh?”

“Well, there’s tunnels down there. People call them the Warrens. They go for miles. There’s enough room for… um…”

She trailed off, her words stopping as Alicia’s eyes widened. The game of it was gone, as was Alicia. Now the captain leaned in, her voice suddenly alive with hope. “Tell me everything about these tunnels. How big they are, where they go, everything.”


	40. A Royal Welcome

Everything on the far side of the canal was a mess. From the poorest corner of the slums to the height of opulence in the estates, nothing had escaped the fires tonight. At least in the slums the ashes had started to grow cold.

There was nothing cold in the air as Alicia crossed the canal and entered the streets surrounding the palace. Compared to this, the slums were almost peaceful. Two, three, even four story buildings spouted flames from every window. Down every street, every roof belched smoke, and every doorway had been shattered. It seemed, too, that every other door contained a body, and sometimes more than one shared the space. Even some of the windows had been propped open with some poor bastard. It was enough to make her want to turn around and run. There was no hope to be found here.

Stubborn as a mule and with twice the ill temper, Alicia stumped her way forward. Too much was at stake for her stomach to be turned by this.

Poor Talia scampered somewhere in the gloom behind her. She wouldn’t have known she was there if she did not keep glancing over her shoulder. The girl may have saved her life but that would not stop Alicia from mothering her right now. This was no place for heroes. It was hardly a place for soldiers. Maybe that was for the best. As someone who had been saddled with both those titles, she had vast experience in faking her way through things like this.

One of Riften’s guards, his sword drawn and bloody, came flying out of an alley and nearly took Alicia in the side. He managed to turn the point aside as he slammed into her, giving her a sharp punch in the shoulder as he sped by.

“Come on! The fight’s this way!”

He was gone before Alicia’s balance had returned, leaving nothing more behind than the echoes of his voice and a vaguely man-shaped hole in the smoke. Both faded without another sound, and the ever-present background noise of burning timber and dying men returned to the world.

Talia was beside her, as she always was. “Shouldn’t we help him?”

Alicia dearly wanted to say yes. It took something beyond bravery to go charging into the dark like that. It took even more to do it alone.

“No,” she said, her own voice so cold she hardly recognized it. Talia was giving her a pleading look. It was not enough to change her heart, but it did make her a bit warmer. “We can’t. He’s doing his part, and that means we have to do ours. He can’t protect all those people in the market on his own. He needs you, and right now, so does the Jarl.”

The words left Talia plainly terrified. Before tonight, if she was on her way to meet the Jarl, it no doubt meant she was nearing the last hour of her life. Tonight, the worst of her life, would just have to be different. It would be different, if Alicia had anything to say about it.

With the sounds of fighting all around them, Alicia beckoned to Talia. “Stay close to me, alright? I’ll make sure nothing else happens to you. You have my word on that.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Talia said, sticking close to Alicia’s side as they hurried on. “They’ll be looking for me. They know who I am.”

Alicia was too busy watching the shadows to watch Talia as she spoke and she had no trouble imagining the Jarl feeling the same way. “I don’t think -”

Another guardsman cut through the alley ahead of her, this one with a wounded comrade draped over his shoulder. From the way his arms were hanging, the man was no longer conscious, and from the look of things, he had lost enough blood to put him very near death’s door.

The man carrying him was talking loud enough for Alicia to hear. “You’re gonna be fine. Come on. Stay awake. I’m not - I’m not doing it. I’m not telling her you died like an idiot. Don’t put that on me.”

Another corner and he was gone, leaving Alicia’s stomach more knotted than before. There wasn’t anything she could do about it, but that did not stop her from wishing.

“If we can stop all this, no one will care who you were before.” Alicia had said it before and she would say it again, as many times as Talia needed to hear it. “We can stop this. Okay? We just have to try.”

Of course it was easy for her to say, not being the wanted criminal between them, but she said it all the same. Talia could have argued. Alicia probably would have. “Okay.”

It didn’t take a survivor like Talia to hear the deep breath she took before she spoke and realize just how difficult this was for her. She deserved a few words. Maybe a pat on the head or something. Yeah, that would help a lot, right before she threw herself into the lion’s den wearing nothing but an old tunic and borrowed boots.

They turned another corner in time to watch a vampire pin a guard to the wall, slashing at him with a vicious-looking dagger. Alicia shouted, putting herself between Talia and the now-dead guardsman.

The vampire spun like a top, smiling madly and swiping at another guard, taking him in the throat. He was fast - they all were but it still took Alicia by surprise whenever she saw it. Men fell around him like they were wooden dummies in the practice yard, but more and more piled on him. Alicia had reached the mouth of the alley, shouting for Talia to hide when it finally went down. The guards who stopped him stood panting in the street, staring down at the pile of their friends. A few turned and ran back into the smoke. One crumpled into a hidden doorway, their boots disappearing as they dragged themselves inside. The ones who were closest just stared. Those without helmets looked sick.

Alicia was more than happy to turn away from the sorry scene, and she was more than a little surprised at what she found behind her. Talia, that dagger of hers gleaming in the light, stood right beside her. She probably should have expected the girl to fight, just as she had done before, but she still couldn’t believe someone that small had so much fight in them.

“If my Dawnguard were as brave as you, I think I could conquer half the world,” Alicia said, smiling fondly at the girl. Talia smiled back, looking embarrassed as she let the blade fall to her side. “But you are really bad at following orders.”

Talia looked up, face still red. “Sorry. Old habits, I guess.”

Alicia huffed. “Indeed. Come on, put that away and let’s go. You’ve got to be a hero somewhere else right now.”

It was plain as day that Talia would have taken the horde of vampires of the Jarl’s attentions but they had no choice. Alicia would just have to do all of the talking. She would say her piece, sell the Jarl the story of saving her entire city, then dramatically reveal the mastermind behind the plan. She would be stunned that this girl, this urchin, so beaten down and mistreated all her life, was stepping forward to save them, that she would elevate her to nobility on the spot. That was the sort of woman the Jarl was. She was just. She knew a good heart when she saw one.

And, if not, then the Dawnguard would walk out the front gates and never look back.

The palace itself was burning, but when compared to the rest of the city, the fires seemed almost pathetic. As Alicia began climbing the steps, she watched as another fireball zipped upward from the streets to strike one of the towers high above. She waited for the boom and crunch of crumbling masonry, but it never came.

At the top of the stairs, looking for all the world like the queen of Skyrim, stood the sole reason Riften had fared so well during the battle. The mysterious mage from outside the city. Her blue cloak flowing all around her, curling about her legs and snapping in the direction of the battle. Alicia was reminded of hunting dogs tugging at their leashes, baying at the scent of fresh game. It was hard to see beneath her cloak but Alicia caught glimpses of rugged travelling boots and trousers, along with an impossibly fine shirt that would have been more at home on feast night than the day of battle. She almost looked like a swashbuckler who had lost her ship.

From where she was standing, the battle in the estates was no more clear than it was on the ground, but she made herself a thoroughly tempting target for any vampire archers. Alicia wondered if she should say something. She wasn’t exactly sure where in the chain of command she sat but this woman was almost certainly immune to whatever orders she could issue.

The woman’s eyes turned lazily on Alicia as she approached. She smirked, her eyes travelling up and down Alicia’s frame without the slightest regard for her dignity. It was not a pleasant experience.

“You must be the captain I’ve heard so much about.”

No, Alicia decided, none of this was going to be a pleasant experience. Better to just be about her business. “I’m here for the Jarl. Is she inside?”

Not waiting for her answer, Alicia continued climbing the stairs, doing her best to make her disinterest plain. It was not that she didn’t like the woman, she just didn’t have the time for her attitude. And maybe she didn’t like her much, either.

The woman nodded at the doors. “She’s there. A bit occupied, as I understand, but she’s there. And what might you be doing here, captain? Your soldiers need you more than she does, do they not?”

And what are you doing up here, so far from the soldiers you should be helping, witch?

She bit her tongue. This was not the place for bickering. “I must speak with the Jarl. There have been developments -”

“Your people don’t factor into her plans, Captain. You’d be better off fighting your own war down there. It’s less confusing. Fewer people shouting.” The woman took a moment to roll her eyes and glare at the door. “It’s why I’m out here. I can do something out here. In there, it’s all just talk.”

“That talk is what’s going to make a difference here,” Alicia said irritably. “If we don’t fight together against this, we’re going to die alone.”

“Is that how it was at your fort?”

Alicia felt her fist clench. “You -”

Another fireball arced up from the streets, this one screaming straight at the palace steps. Alicia cursed, hefting her shield by reflex, but the woman beat her to the punch. Raising one hand, the infuriating mage dispelled the burning mass and turning it to nothing more than embers. Her eyes shone as she did.

“There you are,” she hissed. Her other hand lifted and the air around them crackled.

A single bolt of violet lightning snapped forward, searing itself into Alicia’s eyes and sending her staggering backward with a curse. She nearly toppled down the stairs as her boot slipped on the edge and only by catching herself on her knee was she saved the indignity of a long, tumbling fall.

The mage was chuckling as Alicia stood. She rounded on her, ready to snap at whatever sharp words she had in store, but none came. The woman still stared out over the landscape, watching, waiting. She no longer looked lazy, but hawkish. Alicia might not have liked the woman but she was certainly glad not to be on the receiving end of that bolt.

“Why have you come here?” the mage asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Alicia dusted off her trousers and looked around for Talia. The girl was behind her, just close enough to be there if she lost her balance again but far enough away to make her feelings for this new woman plain.

The new woman sniffed. “Is it not obvious?”

Alicia gave Talia a sort of grimacing smirk that she hoped conveyed her own feelings well enough. She probably just ended up twisting her face into some laughable mess. “You’re here for the vampires?”

“I’m here because I was asked,” the woman said angrily. “Because someone I could not refuse, someone to whom I owe everything, requested my help. I’m here because she knew you would need me.” She paused, turning to Alicia and smiling wolfishly. “And, of course, I’m here for the show.”

That struck a nerve. Alicia gritted her teeth and started up the stairs again. “The show, and if by that you mean so many good people dying in the dark, is down there. You should consider finding a better seat. There are many who would appreciate it.”

The woman chuckled but Alicia did not wait for her to retort, instead shoving open the palace gates and retreating inside.

She was not fast enough, and the woman’s words caught up with her as she fled. “The show’s only just begun, captain. It’s important to save your best for the finale.”

The gate squealed shut behind her as a pair of vigilant guards hauled at the giant metal rings bolted to the wood. Alicia grumbled, stewing at her own helplessness. The show’s just begun? It began at the fort, with their best cut down and left to freeze in the snow. There wasn’t anything left to save for the finale. The damned woman showed up like a tourist, like this was someone else’s battle and she was just here for the fun of it.

Alicia hoped she met whoever had driven her here. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she met them, but it would either involve breaking their jaw or kissing them on the mouth, depending on how the night went.

So involved in her own mutterings was she that Alicia practically walked into a clump of terrified nobles. She blinked, looking in shock for swords or armor and wondering what anyone was doing in this fight without them. Of course they had come here instead of the courtyard. The Jarl’s palace was their refuge. They would ride out the storm in the most safety, and the most comfort, afforded by their taxes.

She blinked, surprised at her own ire. They were just scared, like everyone else. They hadn’t trained for this. What did she expect them to do, pick up a shovel and start swinging at Death Hounds? It would have been nice to see them throw on some armor and shore up the lines, but that was not for everyone. Besides, for all she knew, their families had done just that, donning some enchanted pieces of armor and going to battle around the family estates. The district had held out long enough on its own. That could actually explain quite a bit.

With one hand on her forehead, Alicia ducked to the side of the room to regroup. She was about to address the Jarl. She had to be convincing, timely, and confident, not bitter over the words of some unkind mage.

Talia appeared beside her almost instantly, materializing from the shadows and looking very eager to be somewhere else. Looking at her, seeing her frantic eyes darting between every guard in the room, Alicia found herself suddenly very calm. This must have been horrible for her. She should have been the one cowering in the shadows. Alicia needed to be doing a better job at protecting her. That was what she was here for.

The girl had come up with a way to save everyone in Riften, or at the very least, she had given Alicia a chance to turn the tide. So far, between the two of them, things were somewhat one-sided. Talia had saved her on the bridge. She had given her soldiers a good story to tell. She had given them hope in a fight that had never been anything but a stall.

Alicia let her hand fall from her eyes. She had to be better than this.

The throne room was in absolute chaos. Alicia suddenly realized that, apart from the guards who had slammed the gates, no one knew she was here. There must have been hundreds of people in a room that more comfortably fit a few dozen. The Riften guards were everywhere, watching the doors, clustering around the main table, sprinting in and out of side passages with their weapons drawn. Servants ran with them, pressed into service as runners judging by the scrips of paper in their hands. Others carried litters or bundles of supplies or just stood around looking helpless, pining for the days of washing plates and dusting shelves. A few mercenaries could be seen as well, the strange patches on their coats giving them away as sellswords. Alicia thought she recognized a few of the more famous companies. How had the Jarl gotten so many of them together so quickly?

The Jarl, of course, was at the center of the whirlwind, the calm eye in the maelstrom that engulfed her palace. Alicia caught glimpses of her through the crowd, standing above the feast table, gesturing to points on a large map now pinned to the wood. She couldn’t make out any of the words but she knew they would be calm, concise, and wise. There was no panic in her eyes.

That was the sort of aura Alicia should be trying to cultivate. She puffed herself up, sizing up how to get close to the Jarl without actually having to shove her way through the crowd. There wasn’t much for it except to go straight in. Oh well. It was more dramatic that way.

She gave Talia a warm smile. The girl perked up a little, her eyes still flicking this way and that as guards thundered all around them.

“Let’s go be heroes.”

Alicia strode toward the center of the room, as broad-shouldered and fearless as the captain of the Dawnguard should be. She passed the huddled nobles, watched in surprise as the guards parted for her, and felt strangely at home as she passed her space at the table. The chair beside it was still there, shoved out of sight now that half of it was burned away. Luck had saved her life back then. Her soldiers had saved her life in the streets. Talia had saved her on the bridge.

She would not waste this chance.

At last she reached the high table. The Jarl’s thane was nowhere to be seen, something that gave Alicia pause even in her moment of determination. She hesitated at the top of the steps. It was only for a moment but it was long enough for the mob to close in around her. Soldiers pushed her aside with their own urgent missives. Servants pushed back, taking new bits of paper and running out of the hall. The Jarl’s personal guards were everywhere as they tried to form a ring around her.

Alicia tried again to push forward. She had to speak.

“You there, captain. I would speak with you.”

The Jarl’s voice was enough to part the final curtain of humanity. In moments, there was an aisle forming between her and the Jarl. She could see her clearly now. For every death in Riften’s streets, another crease had been carved into her face and the bags under her eyes had grown a little darker. She looked exhausted. She looked exactly like her poor, beleaguered city. Only her eyes were alive, but when Alicia looked into them, she saw a woman ready for whatever the world had to throw at her.

“I won’t be shouting for you captain. Come closer. I’ve need of your soldiers.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alicia said, jumping forward. “I -”

“Your men did well holding the bridges. I know my people have gathered in the market. It’s good you’re there to protect them.”

“Yes, thank you, ma’am. They -”

The Jarl’s finger stabbed down on the bridge between the market and the estates. “I’m sending guards to this bridge. Have your men meet them. If we lose this bridge, they’ve got us cut off. We can’t let that happen.”

“About your people -”

“They will need you to protect the market a little longer. I will send anyone I can spare, but as you’ve no doubt seen, the fighting here has become somewhat more intense. Thank you for your service, captain, you’re dismissed.”

Her attentions moved to the next soldier, and Alicia was forgotten. She was already speaking to someone else. “Your men are ready? Good. Your company can name the price but only once my people are safe. Our forward command is here. Take your men, hold this position, and -”

Alicia shoved her way through the closing ranks of soldiers. “Your Grace, we have a way to save those in the market! We -”

The Jarl turned, jaws snapping. “I’ve told you how to save them. Carry out my orders and -”

“The Ratway! We can save them if -”

“What nonsense is this? The Ratway is home to -”

“It is safety, Your Grace. Whatever it is home to cannot be worse than what hunts us in the streets. You must listen.”

The Jarl glared. “You are new to this city, captain. You do not know what sort of labyrinth lies beneath our streets. You may think it is safety, but I know it better than you, and -”

“And with respect, this girl knows it better than either of us. She says it is safe. And I trust her to -”

“What? What are you on about?”

Suddenly horrified she had made a misstep, Alicia turned to look over her shoulder. Talia was still there, waiting, terrified. It wasn’t supposed to be like this but there was no other way. They had to try. They had to do something.

“This girl. She’s from the Ratway. She’s offered to -”

“THIEF!”

The whole room stopped. It was not the Jarl who had shouted, but one of her soldiers. The man was pointing at Talia, eyes wide, his sword already drawn. The Jarl followed his gaze and finally settled on Talia as though seeing her for the first time. “Guardsman?”

“That’s the one we saw leaving the palace! The one that stole your crown, Your Grace!”

_Stole her what? Oh, Talia._

“You have been duped, captain. Take the girl into custody. No need for a cell for this one. Just somewhere out of sight will do.”

Guards started to shove their way through the crowd like wolves on the hunt. Alicia was paralyzed. “What?!”

“There’s no time for a trial, captain,” the Jarl explained, condemning this woman to die with nothing more than a passing interest. “I am a woman of justice. Surely you understand.”

Alicia heard the sound as though from far away. It was honestly as much of a surprise to her as it was to the guards closing in, but she, too, was a woman of justice.

“I do. And if you want her, you’ll have to go through me, first.”

The guards stopped. The Jarl did not. “Don’t be absurd.”

“This girl saved my life tonight!” Alicia shouted, desperate for a way to stop the men now closing in on Talia. She had trusted her. She had followed her into this place knowing what would happen.

“Was this before or after she used the chaos of the attack for her own profit? This girl is nothing more than another leech, like all of her kind down in the Ratway. There is no point in fighting, captain. You have been misled. Accept it and move on. Do not throw your life away for a lie.”

The guards were still hesitating. That was something. Alicia forced herself to keep shouting, to keep fighting. “I found this girl in the slums, Your Grace, half dead and with nothing to her name. Not an hour later, she was standing over me, putting herself between a legion of vampires and someone she had never met. She saved my life. She saved the lives of everyone on that bridge and probably everyone on the other side. I don’t know about you but I’m willing to throw my life away for someone like that.”

There was a pause as the guards continued to close in, and Alicia was suddenly terrified the Jarl had just stopped listening.

“You would be so loyal to someone you know nothing about?”

“I know enough, Your Grace. She saved my life. Beggar or queen, I would give anything to a woman who so selflessly risked herself like that. She has earned much more than that.”

The guards had stopped circling. They were close, close enough to seize Talia if the Jarl asked, but they had not moved on her yet. Talia stood perfectly still, watching Alicia with frightened eyes. Alicia wanted to tell her to run. She should pay for this mistake, not her. Not the girl who was just trying to do the right thing.

“Speak up, girl.” The Jarl’s voice had grown cold. “The captain has earned you a single chance. I know you for a thief, yet you come into my hall claiming to be a savior. I will hear you out. But if I find you to be a liar, you will get no mercy from me.”


	41. The Ratway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As dawn approaches, Alicia reveals her plan to win the battle of Riften, and she'll need Talia's help to pull it off

Everyone in Riften feared the Ratway. They did so with good reason, of course, but some of the reasons were just plain ridiculous. They thought monsters stalked the shadows or waited in pools of murky water. What sort of monsters changed with each passing conversation, from giant snakes to bloodied minotaurs to the very darkness itself, but always there was something more horrible than vampires waiting for them in the shadows.

To those who had survived the tunnels, the horrors were more mundane but certainly no less terrible. They walked on two legs, wore human faces, answered to human names, but did things no living person could. But they were people, and that made it all so much worse.

Talia had spent all her life hiding from men like that. Valen and his ilk were everywhere and people like Talia could do little more than hide in the shadows and hope they dropped a few crumbs as they passed. It had the odd effect of making her both less afraid of the shadows and more afraid of the dark. The dark that shrouded the Ratway was home to the worst men Skyrim had to offer, but it was those darker corners, those shadows within the dark, that had kept her safe.

Watching all of Riften pile into those tunnels, complaining as the grime stained their slippers, was an odd feeling for Talia. She heard them asking about monsters. She heard a lot of them asking if there really was no other way but to hide in the Ratway. She even heard the guards complaining. How could they protect anyone down in those tunnels?

Alicia stood beside her, arms folded and her lips curled in a smile. She had every right to be smiling right now. Neither of them should have been standing here, let alone with half the city guard at their back.

“How’s it feel, hero?”

She had no idea why Alicia kept calling her that. If she hadn’t stood up to the Jarl like that, the guards would have just hauled her away and left her body in some forgotten corner. Only Alicia’s shouting had kept her alive. As far as Talia was concerned, anyone who could talk down the Jarl of Riften from handing out punishment was something more than just a hero.

Talia shifted under her cloak and shrugged. She might as well tell the truth. “Good. I guess. Feels like I should be going through their mansions while they’re gone.”

Alicia laughed. A thief had just told her she wanted to go ransack every workshop, estate, and rented room in the city and she thought it was funny. She really was something else. “Yeah, you and me both. Bring me back something nice and we’ll call it even, okay?”

Even. Sure, Talia would bring back something shiny after everything Alicia had done for her and they would be even. She would have to find something really, really shiny. “I’ll see what I can find. Maybe something emerald?”

“Oh?”

“You look like someone who would wear emeralds.”

Alicia narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know how to take that, coming from a thief.”

Talia smiled. “I like emeralds.”

“I still don’t follow you.”

“Well, maybe you have good taste.” Talia tried to imagine Alicia in something besides armor, her face clean instead of covered in grime. “Something simple. Nothing gaudy, nothing that showed off how rich you really are. Just something that looks nice.”

Alicia cocked her head, giving Talia a curious look. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

It was a poor compliment, to be sure, but it was something. Talia was still not sure what to say after what happened in the keep.

“That was incredible.”

Alicia tilted her head a little more. “What was?”

“The way you spoke to the Jarl. She was - I wouldn’t have walked out of there if it wasn’t for you.”

“It would be wrong to treat you any other way, after you saved my life like that.” Alicia spoke as though that made all the sense in the world even as Talia gave her a profoundly blank look. “I’m just happy she saw reason. Though you could have told me you had stolen something so valuable. I would have - actually I probably would have asked you to stay behind.” She put one hand to her forehead in exasperation but Talia could still see her smiling. “The actual crown. You stole the Jarl of Riften’s crown. Tell me, did you swipe it from her head or had it rolled behind the dresser and you just snatched it off the floor?”

Talia smirked. “Off her head. She was talking about those damned thieves from the Ratway making trouble again, tracking mud through her streets and insulting her noble eyes with our ragged clothes.”

She was cut off when Alicia’s hand fell on her head and started grinding painfully against her scalp. “Hey!”

Alicia laughed and let her be a moment later but the damage was done. Her hair, already a tangled rat’s nest, was mussed and tangled beyond repair. She winced and tried in vain to smooth out the mess.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it.” When Talia managed to peer under her arm, glaring indignantly at Alicia, she caught her still smiling about her work. “It was nothing, Talia. I’ve told you how long I’ve been at this whole captaining business but it’s been long enough for me to learn a few things. I love my people. I would do anything for any one of them, even that grouch Thorvald - and you never heard me say that. Their lives are more important than mine. They mean the world to me. So, when you came along, and you saved my life, you gave me a chance to save them. I can’t tell you what that means to me, but beggar or queen, I will do whatever I can to repay that debt to you.”

No mercy. That was what the Jarl had said. Save her people or be killed on the spot. It all felt like a dream. Talia had stepped up to the map and, hands impossibly steady, had mapped the Ratway from memory. She had shown her the hiding places she had cherished for so long. She had shown her how to save her people. She had traded her own safety for theirs, and she had hated every moment of it.

But it had worked. The Jarl had nodded. She stared long and hard into Talia’s eyes and she had seen she was telling the truth. The woman may have been an inhuman, uncaring monster in fine clothes, but she knew the truth when she heard it. She gave them soldiers. Alicia now had more than enough people to hold the market, or at least that was what she had told Talia after they had left.

And Talia would never forget what happened after. The Jarl had looked to her and said, in front of everyone “If you do this for me, if you save my people, you will never need to steal in my city again.”

She had no idea what that meant, but it sounded a lot like she wouldn’t be hungry anymore. And it was all because Alicia had stood up for her.

Alicia made hand signals to one of the passing Dawnguard. Talia had started to work them out for herself, but this one was new. The man hurried off toward another group of vampire hunters, pointing back toward Alicia and looking excited. More of them were gathering nearby. A lot more.

“You did well, Talia,” Alicia said quietly. “You got us here. Now we have a chance.”

“Yes, a lovely little chance for all of us to die together.”

The angry mage from the keep strolled up beside Alicia, scowling toward the huddled masses in front of them. Alicia gave her a peevish look. “So glad you could make it. Do you have a name or shall we just glare at one another in greeting?”

Her scowl deepened and Alicia raised an eyebrow at what seemed to be her answer. “Oh, sorry.” Alicia glared back at her.

“You may call me Illia, for however long you stay alive tonight.” The mage looked contemptuously at Talia. “And you? To whom do I owe the pleasure of slogging through the Ratway this evening?”

“I’m Captain Seroven, of the Dawnguard. You may have heard of us. This is Talia. She’s the one you’ll direct your thanks to when we survive tonight.”

“You might think of sharing that gratitude, captain, when the first fireballs begin to land around you.” Illia nodded toward the burning estates. “Surely you can feel the heat even from across the canal. That fire will spread soon enough. Your Jarl has placed enormous faith in your success. I hope, for her sake, you offer more than empty words.”

The fires were spreading, and the wind from them was more than hot. It was enough to make Talia want to search for a bucket of water. It was almost enough to make her want to plunge into the canal.

It had only gotten worse since Illia had left the palace. It seemed her magic alone had held the fight together near the palace, and now that she was gone, everything was burning. The last of the estates had gone up in flames and now the battle had been carried to the steps of Mistveil Keep. The Jarl had remained inside with her people, determined to fight until the end, but she had probably thought that end would be longer in coming. Dawnguard on this side of the canal had set up with those strange weapons of theirs and were firing at vampires that ventured too close to the canal. As Alicia had said, they had only one chance.

“Don’t worry,” Alicia said, her voice strong and confident even another wave of hot and acrid air blew across the canal. “This is all part of the plan.”

“The vampires can plainly see you. They will have spies among your people, and even if they do not, they will see when thousands begin to vanish below the ground. You are doing nothing but changing your final resting place, trading the open air for the tunnels below.” Illia gestured in frustration toward the canal. “You may as well have just dumped them in the river and told them to swim. They’d have a better chance of reaching the shore than of finding their way out of those warrens alive.”

Alicia looked lazily toward the slums, her face momentarily hidden from Talia’s view. “Can they? See us, I mean?”

“Of course they can! A blind man would know what you’re trying to pull. What possible -”

She was cut off as a stray fireball slammed into the roof of the inn near the canal. Talia jumped, looking around for the mage who had thrown it. Illia cursed and waved the fire away with her hand, leaving nothing but a black scar where the flames had been a moment ago.

“You will stay with me,” Alicia said, her tone now sharp and commanding as the captain returned and the red-haired girl disappeared. “I’ll need your magic when the fighting starts.”

“It’s already started!”

“Not just yet. This is the bait. We have yet to spring the trap. The Jarl was kind enough to provide the anvil. I will need you to help us swing the hammer.”

Illia turned on her in a pale fury. “What are you babbling about? We’re stuck here! Soon enough, we’ll all be trapped below and -”

“Talia.”

Talia all but yelped. She didn’t like it her name came up in arguments like this. It meant bad things. Or, it had, until tonight. “I - uh -”

“The cisterns you spoke of. You described them to me before. They lead beneath the canal and across to the other side. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes. Yes. There are some. But that isn’t - they aren’t going there. Are they?” Talia looked toward the fleeing mass of people and back to Alicia. “They’re going deeper. They’re going to hide.”

“Exactly.” Alicia said, her eyes sharp, eager, and fully alive. “They aren’t going that way. We are.”

Illia looked back across the canal for a long moment. “That’s madness.”

“You don’t sound opposed.”

“I didn’t say I was.”

“Good, because if I’m going to throw the dice on this, I want you fully committed, no matter how you think they’ll roll. Can you do that?”

Illia turned to Alicia and, for the first time, Talia saw her smile. It was not a pleasant sight. “Oh, I can do that. This… this will be a good fight!”

More fire came sailing over the canal as one of the Dawnguard came pounding through the courtyard. “Captain! Vampires on the bridges!”

“We’ve stalled long enough. Where’s the Lieutenant?”

“He’s waiting for you. Everyone’s already starting for the tunnels. We’ll be ready to follow your lead once you get there.”

Alicia grinned. Her hand fell heavily on Talia’s shoulder and squeezed. Talia actually winced but found she rather liked the attention. It made her feel confident. Like she could do whatever it was Alicia was asking of her. “You heard him. Lead on, Talia. The Dawnguard are waiting for you.”

 

The Ratway felt different tonight and not in a good way. Talia’s heart pounded in her chest in panic as she stopped at every intersection, terrified she had gotten them all lost in the dark.

But that was the problem. It was not dark anymore. These tunnels were not the ones Talia remembered. When it was quiet, when there was no light at all, Talia knew where she was going. She could make herself Quiet and the dark would lift just enough so that she could see. She wasn’t sure how she did it, but it was how she had survived down here all these years. She had known them well when she had walked these tunnels alone.

Now there were hundreds of soldiers following her with torches and clanging swords and heavy boots that thumped loudly against the stone. It was a deafening, blinding, disorienting experience, and she was convinced it was going to be her last.

Alicia was still plodding along behind her, confident as ever. She kept looking up at the ceiling like it would suddenly turn to glass and let her see the roads far above. Talia found herself wishing she could do the same. It wasn’t far now. At least, she didn’t think it was. The cisterns down here were massive. She had always wondered who had built them. Why anyone would take the time to hollow out so much of the ground under Riften was beyond her. These tunnels were not even connected to the sewers anymore.

Whatever the reason, they had given Talia a place to hide, and that was good enough for her. She felt the ground sloping under her and let herself slide down the steep decline. Alicia made an unhappy noise behind her and nearly went face first into the pool of water Talia knew would be waiting for them. Seeing it now, even as strange as it looked being lit by torches, took all her fears away. This was the closest thing Talia knew to a real home.

“What is this place?” Alicia asked, stumbling to the edge of the water but not quite tumbling all the way.

Talia smiled and shrugged. It felt wrong, speaking to anyone in a place that should have been silent, but there was no point in keeping quiet now. The Dawnguard were beginning to pour down the last slope. One or two cursed as they tumbled, prompting Talia to move out of their way and around the side of the pool. Ahead of them was the home Talia had made. Well, it had already been here, but she had made it her own. The wooden planks that crossed the water, the little stand on the far wall that almost looked like a bar, the rotted tables, all of it belonged to her.

“I found it,” Talia said, as though that explained everything. “It was just waiting down here. I’m not sure what it is. Just… home, I guess.”

It sounded stupid to her own ears but Alicia nodded. She actually stood up a little straighter as she walked. “We’ll be respectful.”

Talia actually heard herself chuckling. Respectful of what? It was just rotted wood. Her blankets would be out of sight. All her belongings would be hidden away in the empty wine barrels lining the wall. There was nothing for them to respect.

But she did appreciate the gesture. She led them around the side of the pool and down another tunnel, passed the old bookcase that opened on a hinge, through the secret door with the lock Talia had picked, and into the place beyond.

It was the only place Talia did not feel like she was trespassing. There was too much space here for her to feel comfortable, so she slept outside by the pool, but in here, she felt safe. No one could find her. She was at home. The sound of water pouring in from above, cascading down to the center of the room, the way the dim light would fill the chamber during the day, the way the room promised her that no one in the world could possibly find her, she loved all of it. This room was the one place in all of Riften she truly felt at home.

And she had never told anyone about it. Not Ava, not Valen, no one. She had never even asked about it. Some told stories about places like this. They said it was once the hideout for the Thieves Guild, back when they were more than a bunch of cutthroats and pickpockets. They said it was cursed. Just like the Guild was cursed.

If Talia was cursed, it would certainly explain a lot, but she had never imagined a curse to feel so pleasant. That was why she stayed. It just felt right, somehow.

Alicia let out a low whistle. “You weren’t kidding, were you? You could hide half the city down here.”

Talia flinched at the idea. This was her place, not theirs. “There are other places like this. That’s where they’re going. This is…”

“Yeah. I get it.” Alicia looked back at the Dawnguard now pouring through the door. “Wipe your boots and don’t touch anything. This is someone’s home.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but she appreciated the gesture. The Dawnguard behind them mumbled and Talia very clearly heard one say “Place like this, I went into the wrong line of work.”

The man beside him groaned. “It’s a sewer, idiot.”

“You ever see a sewer this nice? Like a palace.”

“A palace for rats. Shut up and keep your eyes on the road. I’m not fishing you out of the water again.”

Talia had to smile. A palace in the Ratway. Did that make her the rat queen?

Alicia was grumbling next to her. It wasn’t as though being called a rat bothered her. She had been called much worse in her time. Talia looked up in time to see her glare daggers at the men behind them, fixing one with a baleful stare that would keep him from speaking for the rest of the night.

It was the thought that counted. Talia pointed to one of the passages at the far end of the cistern. “There.”

“What’s that? A ladder?”

“It leads to another tunnel. It goes up to the old cemetery. There won’t be anyone around.”

“The old cemetery. Is that - yes, I know the one. That’s good. Better than I hoped. We’ll have room to form up before we go into the streets. That’s perfect.”

Talia shuffled. “I’ll… I’ll follow you.”

Alicia had already been moving toward the ladder, eager to get back into the fight, but slowed at Talia’s remark. “What is it?”

“Just a weird feeling I get whenever I go through there.” The weird feeling included being watched by something inhuman and the sense that if she left the cistern she would die but she did not feel like elaborating. “It’s nothing. I just don’t like using that door when I don’t have to.”

Alicia offered her a comforting smile. “I wish there was another way tonight. At least you’ll never have so many strangers in your home again, right? You were brave to do this, Talia. We won’t forget it. And neither will the Jarl. You’ll have a real palace all to yourself after this.”

“I think I like this one just fine,” Talia said without a hint of sarcasm. She would prefer the safety of her rags to any riches the Jarl could offer.

“I do not doubt it,” Alicia said, reaching the ladder and taking hold of the first rung. She took a moment to test it with a firm pull before going further. “But it would be easier to visit if you had a place to live above ground. I would prefer not to go searching for you in a graveyard.”

“I - visit?” It was all Talia could manage. The idea was so foreign she had to wonder what it even meant.

“Of course. Once this is over, I’d love to have a friend in Riften. You know, somewhere I can rest while I’m out doing… whatever it is I’ll be doing.”

Talia blinked dumbly and was grateful when Alicia turned back toward the metal rungs. “That would - uh - I’d like that. I think.”

“Oh, you don’t have much choice in the matter,” Alicia said cheerily. “You saved my life. That’s not something I’ll soon forget. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

Before Talia could ask her what that meant, Alicia was already pulling herself up the ladder, her Dawnguard filing in behind her. She hurried forward, eager to be near Alicia and the front of the line as they all made their way to the surface. She should have been focusing on that. They were about to start a fight. A very big, nasty fight that would consume all of Riften. Talia wanted to be next to Alicia for that, even if it meant being near the worst of the battle. She had no doubt that would be where Alicia went. She was brave. She would know what to do.

All poor Talia could do was follow along and try not to get trampled as she walked. For a moment, it felt like she was doing Valen’s work again, and her heart seized in fear. Her head soon set her gut straight. This was nothing like before. Alicia cared about her. She had saved her. Even if this was far more dangerous than anything she had ever done for Valen, it would be worth it. This was for the right reason. And, for the first time, it was something she wanted to do.

The passage was horrible, as it always was. Talia scuttled along between two Dawnguard soldiers eager to impress the girl on the bridge. They talked to her about what would happen once this was over and Talia was pretty sure one of them tried to formally induct her into their ranks, but she was not listening. She wanted this to be over.

Alicia was waiting for her at the end of the tunnel, a smile on her face. She gestured up the last ladder. The one that would put Talia in the empty tomb and lead them all back into Riften. She could see sunlight beginning to shine off the stone.

The sun. Her heart suddenly leapt. They had made it. It was nearly morning. Was this all part of Alicia’s plan? It had to be. It was genius. The vampires would be weak. The Dawnguard would surprise them. Riften would be safe.

“Go on,” Alicia said, nodding at the ladder. “You first. You got us this far. Go and see the sun. I think it will be a welcome sight after the night we’ve had.”

Talia nodded eagerly. She wanted to see this end. She wanted to see Alicia and her Dawnguard standing in triumph in Riften’s streets. She wanted to see the vampires gone and peace and quiet return to Riften. She wanted to see the streets where Ava died go back to the way they were. And she really wanted to see the Jarl forced to thank a thief for saving her city.

She climbed the ladder faster than she ever had but still it took far longer than she remembered. The gate at the top opened with a loud squeal that was deafening to Talia. She hoped no one heard it. With any luck, it was drowned out by the distant battle.

The thought nagged at her for but a moment. As the bars swung open and she stepped into the empty cemetery, Talia could see the dawn begin to break, and for the first time that night, faint rays of hope began to warm her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so accommodating toward my OC's. I know you're here for Serana so I'm letting you know that she is coming back in the very next chapter. From here on out, the story returns very much to the hands of Eira and Serana, as we'll see in the next chapter and the ones that follow. I just wanted to pass along that I appreciate all the positive comments on the new OC's and let you know that, for Eira and Serana, the break is over, and there is a lot of work to do.


	42. Nightfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harkon fulfills the prophecy

Hopeful was never a word Serana would have used to describe herself. She would have picked more unpleasant, realistic, intelligent words, like jaded or unflappable. Pessimistic actually would have been much closer to the mark than anything else, but that was only because she was smart enough to see the world the way it was.

Eira was much the same way. She had a way of making things seem brighter, but that was just because she had not lived long enough. Serana was willing to give that some time before she found some common sense. Or not. She could do with a little sunlight now and again.

In any case, the two of them were hardly the laughing heroes of their own tale, vanquishing evil with smiles on their faces and saving the world with a song, but here she was, feeling like she could see the ending. The bard was coming to the height of her performance. The music was picking up speed. Soon, the final confrontation between good and evil would come to a head, and everyone knew who would be standing at the end.

It was a ridiculous sentiment, and the fire zipping around her ears should have done more to squash it. Still, she felt good. They had done well tonight. Whiterun had been a battle for the ages and they had come out on top. Riften would stand on its own after all the vampires they had cut down outside its walls. Shor’s Stone, the little village with the plucky girl Eira had saved, had been saved without a single life lost, and now here they were at Dragon’s Bridge, again fighting in the street and again saving hundreds from her father’s minion.

The Legion was proving enormously helpful. A paranoid bunch by trade, they had done well holding off the assault so far. The vampires had crept in during the night but it appeared the Legion had been quick to push them back. A few of the houses spewed smoke but the barracks and the inn still stood untouched. The bodies in the streets were all wearing Volkihar black or bandit leathers.

Eira was the one to thank for most that. Serana had been preoccupied with fighting mages so she had taken little part in saving the city itself. That left her companion to show off in the street, spinning about with Vengeance like she was some travelling performer. Once they were all through with this, maybe she could revisit the idea with Eira. She would make a fortune. She could even train the locals and charge whatever price she desired. That could be how they earned their bread after this. Well, not bread, but maybe potions. She knew better than to think this would be their last big fight. Both of them were too damn good at getting stabbed.

Serana waved her hand toward the vampire now trying to keep that tradition alive. He was another of Harkon’s old friends, but Serana had only distasteful memories of this one. There would be no hesitation from her now. The fire he threw would have put most mages on their heels. Serana batted it aside, pushing it into the dirt where it wouldn’t strike anyone behind her or, worse, put one of the houses in danger. Behind the howling fire came the howling vampire, his blade drawn.

Not wanting to draw this out, Serana put an ice spike in his chest, cursing in annoyance as his ward snapped into place. It shattered as the ice struck it but it did its job and got him in close.

His sword came down in an arc, hacking at the base of Serana’s neck. So much for her father wanting her alive. What would he do without her precious blood, she wondered.

The blade sparked as it clashed against Serana’s dagger. Skilled enough to see the parry coming, the vampire followed through and backed out of range as Serana countered. Her own swipe found only air and was hardly ready by the time he came rushing back in for another blow.

Stumbling back over the broken ground, Serana pushed herself back. She needed her footing. He had her on her heels. Even as she landed, one ankle twisting uncomfortably, she knew she wouldn’t get it.

More sparks as the vampire swung again, this time almost drowned out by the flash of lightning in his palm. Serana’s own ward flickered as the bolt struck, holding strong but leaving her blind as the sword came down. Luck saved her life as much as quick footwork. She dodged again, feeling the air rush past her face as the blade missed. Shooting blind, she threw fire from her hands.

The vampire screamed. Serana regained her footing, twirling her dagger in her palm and resettling her ward as she waited for the counter.

It never came. Serana watched as Eira, unseen and unheard, slipped in behind the reeling vampire and put him in the ground with one clean blow. It was enough to make a girl feel clumsy.

She always did make it look too easy. Not that Eira needed to know that. Someone had to keep her in line or she would start thinking she was something special.

Serana gave her dagger another easy flip and gave Eira a winning smile. “Took you long enough.”

“Long enough? You had one. I had, well, everyone else.”

Serana actually laughed. “What? I like watching you work.”

Eira rolled her eyes and grumbled. From the look on her face, she wanted to laugh and enjoy the sort of banter they had during their early days. It was a shame when that cloud of guilt passed over her, blotting out the woman Serana had grown so fond of. The woman Serana had started to miss.

She should do something about that.

“Anyway, I suppose that’s all of them.”

Eira made a gruff noise and started up the path. “We should keep moving. We’re almost there.”

“You go ahead. I think I’ll stay in town a while longer. Still got a few things to take care of.”

Serana watched as Eira, her playful side so completely washed away, nodded and started up the road. It took her a few moments to realize how ridiculous the whole thing was. At least she stopped before she got outside of town. “What things?”  
“You don’t remember?”

Eira turned back to face her, squinting in confused impatience. There was only one thing for her now; killing Harkon. “What?”

“Well if you’re going to be sticking around, at least help me find him. He should be around here somewhere. We weren’t gone that long. I wonder if he still remembers me.”

Now Eira allowed her frustration to boil over. “What in Oblivion’s name are you talking about?”

Serana, shrugging off the snappish remarks and biting tone, just smiled. “There was a very helpful soldier here last time. I think he liked me and I told him I owed him a favor. Do you think he’s still here?”

Eira’s anger faded as the words struck her. She blinked, the jest making no sense, not at a time like this. Serana should have been just as angry as her, or at least that was what was happening inside that wonderful head of hers. She was trying so hard to save the world alone. No, that wasn’t it. This Eira was older. This one had served the Brotherhood, killing dozens without ever asking why. And Serana had tried to slay her with an idiotic joke.

It was a lucky thing that her other half, the one Serana had become so fond of, was so very fond of terrible jokes. The stone-like expression began to crack, the fire in her eyes started to cool, and a very weary smile emerged for the briefest and most beautiful of moments.

Serana began sauntering toward her. “Unless that would bother you?”

Eira shook her head and rubbed at her eyes. Her head must have been killing her. Serana wasn’t much for Healing but she could spare a little to keep Eira on her feet. She made a note for later.

“Wouldn’t bother me at all,” Eira mumbled. “Go ahead, find the kid and have a good time. You’ve earned it.”

“Oh?” Serana pretended to be taken aback. “What’s this? No jealousy? No protective instinct?”

She waited for Eira to finish scrubbing at her forehead and finish her setup. When her hand finally did fall away, the assassin had gone completely, and the confident, smiling woman Serana had fallen for had returned.

“Nope. Actually, this sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“I think I’m hurt.”

“The first time you tried to kiss me, you ended up killing me.”

Serana suppressed an undignified snort of laughter. “It got you to stick around, didn’t it?”

“So you’re planning on killing this kid, too?”

“Not _planning_ on it. I hardly know what to do with just one fledgling vampire following me around. The way you’re constantly getting underfoot, I can’t even imagine what life would be like with two.”

This time Eira allowed herself to laugh. It wasn’t the laugh Serana remembered, but it was something. Again she scrubbed at her forehead as though trying to wipe away all that had happened since they had found Auriel’s Bow. Just acknowledging it was nearly enough to bring Serana to her knees. They had failed. The world was in danger. People were dying.

That was why she had to bring the old Eira to her senses. Those people needed a hero, and they deserved a better one than Serana.

Eira looked up the road, her teeth gleaming in the firelight as that smile widened just a bit more. “Things seemed to have settled down. Should we have a look around? Stop by the inn like he said?”

Would that they could. At least it was still standing. “No, I think I’ll pass tonight. I don’t think the people will be eager to see another vampire coming up the road, no matter how much gold she’s carrying. Asking for a drink might end with us chased out with pitchforks and torches.”

Somewhere near the bridge, someone was shouting for a healer. The clash of steel had faded but the night was still full of light and noise. Figures darted up and down the road hauling stretchers, bandages, and the odd torch or pitchfork. The people of Dragon’s Bridge were hearty. Even without the Legion here, there was no doubt in Serana’s mind that her father’s people would have paid a heavy price for the town.

But the Legion had been here, as had she. The battle was over, and the real battle still waited just ahead. Harkon still had Auriel’s Bow. They had not won. Not yet.

“What do you think, then?” Eira asked, levity returning to her voice even as Serana began to fret. “We didn’t stay long the last time we were here, either. I’d say we’re both looking as human as we could be. I could do with something to eat. We should stop by. This friend of yours might be good for a free room, after all. And you did make a promise.”

The sun began to peer over the mountains far to the east. Fort Dawnguard, still smoldering and abandoned save for the crows, would just be catching the first light of the morning. Riften would be reeling from the invasion but surely there would be survivors. The Companions of Whiterun would be leading their own ragged band out of the city gates. Eira seemed to think the Stormcloaks of Windhelm would survive and what Serana remembered of the walled city agreed with her. But there were so many others. Had those in the College survived? Was the library there nothing more than a pile of charred paper? And what of the port city of Dawnstar? Morthal? How many small villages like Shor’s Stone had they failed to save?

Serana felt the air growing cold. The light of the sun washed over Dragon’s Bridge but did not burn her. It did not even seem to touch her at all.

“Shall we try out luck at Solitude? Just pop in for a quick visit and be on our way? It’s been awhile since I’ve visited. The food isn’t great, but at least that isn’t much of a worry anymore, is it?” Eira sauntered down the road toward Serana but she scarcely noticed her coming. She could not take her eyes off the sun. Something was about to happen. She could feel it.

Eira paused beside her and nudged her arm. “We’re almost there. One more push. It’s just like we talked about. We saved these people. Now we just have to save a few more. Just a bit longer. Today is the last day. Then - well, I suppose that’s up to us. Isn’t that right? Serana?”

She felt the shot. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t hear it, but even a thousand leagues away she would have felt it in her heart. The twang of the bowstring echoed in every fibre of her being. It snapped at her with such force that she nearly lost her balance.

The arrow, wherever it was, flew straight and true.

Soon, the whole world felt what she did. There was a deep, fatidic toll, like a cathedral’s bells at a funeral. Eira said something under her breath but Serana could not hear it. The sky rippled. The air seemed to turn to water and, from the rising sun that had given Serana so much hope, the ripples began to spread. Ever outward, the waves began to grow darker, changing the bright blue of the morning sky to the orange and violet of twilight. The clouds shuddered and turned, oozing across the sky like oil on water.

That oil soon caught fire, pressed up against the sun, and the whole world turned to a burning crimson. The clouds cast horrible shadows on the ground and the sun, banished from sight, could do little more than watch as the world beneath it changed beyond recognizing.

The shouting at the bridge turned to screams of terror. Serana looked to Eira in shock. “I’m sorry.”

Eira shook her head. “We - we can’t. We have to go. Serana -”

Serana pitched forward with a scream as something struck her in the shoulder. Her fingers found the point of the arrow sticking from her side. Clean through. At least it hadn’t hit anything important.

“Should have learned by now,” Serana said quietly.

Eira was beside her in a moment. “Come on! We have to go!”

Serana grabbed the shaft, gritted her teeth, and yanked it from her back, allowing nothing more than a gasp to escape her lips. “Eira -”

But Eira was already Healing her, pulling her up and dragging her away in a feat of impossible strength. “We have to go!”

The archer behind them was shouting. “I got one! Come back, bloodsucker! I’ll make it quick!”

Serana cast a glare over her shoulder as Eira pulled her along. “So much for gratitude.”

“Come on,” Eira said, her own breath coming in ragged gasps. “Don’t give up on me. Not now.”

Serana stared at the fading village, at the bodies in the street and the boy, no more than ten, fumbling with another arrow in the dirt, and wanted nothing more than to give in, fall to the dirt, and spend her last moments in another world.


	43. One Final Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dawnguard enter their final push to retake the city of Riften but are caught off guard by the darkening of the sky

Talia stared up at the sky, only closing her mouth for fear her heart would climb from her throat. The sun was gone. It was there, right where it should have been, but it wasn’t. The whole sky was burning. Everything was burning.

She looked for Alicia and found her crouched just up the road, her hair the only thing to set her apart the other Dawnguard figures. Most of them were staring upward just like Talia. Some muttered in fear, some prayed to whatever god would listen. Their words melded together in a chorus of fear and doubt that Talia could not help but feel within her. What use was fighting against something that could do _that?_

Everywhere she looked, the Dawnguard were wrestling with their doubts. Just moments ago, they had been ready to fight, to take back Riften and plant their flag in the center of the market square. They were ready to face a city filled with vampires and an army of their thrall. They would have marched into Oblivion itself had they been asked.

Only now, Oblivion had come to them, and even that insurmountable courage was shaken to its core.

“That’s the end of it.”

The now-familiar voice came grumbling from over Talia’s shoulder. Crouched behind the same collapsed building, stooped and scowling in the red light that now covered the world, was Thorvald. Talia looked around to see the Dawnguard around them paying no attention to the permanently unhappy man. They, like everyone else, were too busy looking at the sky.

She watched as he nodded toward Alicia, smirking and staring down his nose at the captain. “Got farther than I thought she would. But she made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” The terror of the ruined sky suddenly forgotten, Talia whirled on the old bastard, hissing through her teeth in anger. “You can’t possibly be blaming this on her.”

“What’s stopping me?” the healer asked with a caustic chuckle. “Do you know what made the sky darken, thief?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Of course our glorious captain had nothing to do with it. I’m not an idiot. And that’s the problem. Everyone knows who did it. The enemy did. The vampires. They just put out the gods-damned sun. It doesn’t matter if they blame Alicia - it’d actually be better if they did. But they know even she can’t do something like that. She can’t, but the enemy can, and they have every right to be afraid.”

Talia wanted to tell him off but it was true. She trusted Alicia with her life. She had followed her into the Jarl’s palace and almost been killed for it. But this, well, this was not normal.

Thorvald did not wait for her to speak. He just shook his head and scowled at Alicia. “She doesn’t understand that. To her, we’re all just toy soldiers. We aren’t people. We don’t get afraid. Or tired. Or hungry. When we get hurt, we just need a potion and we’re back on our feet. She doesn’t see that. She just sees the battle and how to win it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Look around. What do you see?”

Talia wanted to get up and hit him with something, not look around at the world. But she did. There was nothing to see, and that got her to sneer at him. “They’re still here. Everyone is still here. Look. They’re afraid but they’re staying with her. The ones by the old tavern haven’t moved. The ones in the road haven’t run off. We’re all still here.”

“And what else do you see?”

“The sky? Even with that and the fires and -”

Thorvald pointed lazily down the road and, as Talia followed his finger, her anger at him grew. “What? The gates?”

“Gods above, you’re as bad as she is. Yes. The gates.”

“What about them?”

Thorvald shook his head but Talia did not need his answer. She was angry, not stupid. She knew what he saw, what everyone in the Dawnguard would see, because it was what she had been looking for all her life.

The gates were open, and beyond, the road lay waiting. There was nothing standing between her and the open world. She would be safe out there - far safer than she would be charging into battle with the Dawnguard. It was what she had always talked about. Ava had dreamed about it. This had always been their dream and now, at the most unlikely moment, it could be more than a dream for one of them at least.

“And there she goes. She’s figured it out.” Thorvald laugh came without mirth as he shook his head and sighed. “Now if only you’d enlighten our fearless leader.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Talia snapped. She forced her eyes off the gate and back to him but the effort proved enough to sap most of the venom from her tone. It took another moment for her to find more. “We have to go back. Alicia - the captain, she knows, and so does everyone here. We can’t just leave.”

“And why not? No, don’t bother. I’m not the one you need to convince, see. It’s them.”

Talia gave him one last glare, intending to chew him out until the very moment Alicia called on them to charge.

She never got the chance. Another voice interrupted her from somewhere in the rubble.

“You’re out of your mind.”

“No, I’m not. Look, it’s right there.”

Turning to face the voices, careful to keep the loose rocks all around from clattering to the street, she found the two Dawnguard soldiers hiding further up the street. They were almost close enough to touch but those few paces over the field of rubble looked for all the world like a dozen miles. She shifted in her small cubbyhole, looking from the two soldiers to Alicia and wondering if she could hear them, too.

Alicia wasn’t moving. She was staring off toward the market, oblivious to it all.

“Of course I can see it, you ass.”

“Then let’s go! Do something. We can’t just -”

“Yes, we can. We both swore -”

“The hell with that. Look!”

His companion did look, as did Talia. The fires from the market were growing. It looked like they were walking into Oblivion. Riften, for all its corruption and hunger and frigid nights, was a sight she now sorely missed. The orange glow of a burning world was bad enough, but the sound of it was far worse. With every crash of steel on steel, there was a horrible scream. Some were furious battle cries, others were shrieks of terror, but every one pierced Talia’s heart. They each made the open gate seem so much closer and the battle so much more terrifying.

The hesitant one tried to argue. “I know and I’m just as scared as you are. But we have to.”

“The hell we do.”

“What about the others? The ones with the Lieutenant?”

Talia looked up as though she could see through the row of buildings. The Lieutenant and rest of the Dawnguard were just up the road, hiding near the slums. They were to take the vampires from all sides, leaving them nowhere to run.

But that was before they saw the gate. “What about them?”

“Surely they can see it, too. And look! Look!”

Black figures now scuttled at the edges of the gate. It was impossible to tell who they were from so far away, but even Talia could see at least some of them clearly had swords and armor. Were those Dawnguard pieces? Was that the shining sun emblazoned on their shoulders?

“What if that’s them? What if that’s Veld getting out while he can? We should be with them.”

“But -”

“There’s no one left to save. I know you, and I know you want to fight but throwing ourselves on that fire saves no one. Your family - I know you’ve been thinking about them. We’ll go straight there, find your sister, your father. Your brothers, you’ve told me about them. We can save them. Please.”

More of the same whispers began to spread up and down the street. Words of fear carried from the burned-out alehouse just behind them. The soldiers there were just as afraid. They were going to leave. All of them.

Talia tried to push herself up. She had to do something.

The hesitant man sighed. “Alright. Alright, I -”

“ARE YOU NOT ASHAMED?”

Like the crack of thunder, the voice stilled everyone within earshot. Talia froze, transfixed by the woman standing in the center of the street. Atop a pile of rubble, framed by the orange glow of the fires, was not Alicia but the true Captain of the Dawnguard. Her hair seemed to glow in a burning halo of red. She looked taller, like something out of the stories.

“Are you not ashamed?!” She shouted again. “You stand at the end of the road, the true enemy before you, and your first thought is to flee? With every life in this city hanging on your shoulders, would you turn your back and run? Would you let your captain face this alone?”

The ruins were silent now. Even Thorvald, his muttering and complaining as constant as the wind, had fallen silent beneath Alicia’s booming voice.

“I know the fear you feel inside. I know the loss that wracks your hearts with grief. I see ahead the same, impossible struggle, and I know all too well the voice inside telling you to flee. These past nights have been hard on all of us. Everyone here has seen enough hardship to last three lifetimes.”

“But look around you. This is only the beginning. The homes in Whiterun or Solitude will be shown no more kindness. The families of Winterhold and Dawnstar will be shown no more mercy. This night alone has shown all of us the destruction caused by these monsters. All of us have seen the evil they have brought with them. And those of us that are here, now, have a chance to stop this. We few, who have survived so much, you who have given so much of yourselves, have been asked to give yourselves to one final effort. We alone can put an end to this.”

Backlit by the burning market, Alicia hoisted her shield, the emblazoned sun shining crimson and gold as she turned toward the market.

“I choose to make that effort. This is our fight. This is the oath we took. This is our darkness. And I mean to burn it out.”

The sun’s dim light still gleaming off her shield, Alicia turned and marched toward the town.

No one followed.

Talia looked about in panic. No one was moving, no one was helping. She was going to face this all on her own.

Thorvald was still crouched in the rubble, stunned and staring after her. Just across the street were the two soldiers that had wanted to leave. They weren’t moving, either.

Screams still came from the market. The deep booming of fireballs seemed to be growing louder.

She pushed herself to her feet, fingers grasping at the hilt of her dagger. She had to do something.

 

The sound of Alicia’s own footsteps was deafening in the silence. They seemed to echo off the broken buildings and down the street for miles.

She heard nothing else. Alone, she walked into the market, against a host of vampires and a legion of thrall. It would have been better to have heard something from the others, even if it was just hoots of laughter or the sound of their boots padding toward the gate. At least then she would know for sure.

It was a pretty stupid thing for her to do, standing up and shouting like that. Worse was that she kept going, too proud to turn back. It wasn’t as though she could save Riften all on her own.

But she had told the truth. For as long as she was still standing, she would not let these monsters have their way without a fight. The people of Riften, from the lowest thief to the Jarl herself, deserved a shield against this evil. They had all shown courage on this horrible night, especially those who had so little reason to stand and fight.

The thought of Talia made her smile. The little thief had done so much for her. It was a shame she had repaid her so poorly. She had given them every chance to survive. Alicia had just failed to seize upon them.

She passed the remains of another building and found herself standing at the edge of the canal. The vampires were there, waiting for her on the bridge. They had not seen her yet but it would not be long now. She had nowhere to hide. She might make it another few steps before they noticed the lone woman marching toward them. She hoped, at least, that she hoped a little heroic.

It was too late for regret. This was how it had turned out. It was not the ending she had hoped for. It was not the ending she had wanted. It was just what happened. Perhaps Talia would make something of her new life. If she survived the night, and Alicia was sure that she would, she deserved a chance to start over. She deserved a normal life.

One of the thrall turned to see her. It stared, glassy eyes turning furious. They almost seemed to glow.

It was too late for regret. Alicia drew her sword, the ring of steel drawing the eyes of those others on the bridge. She raised it before her, hefting her shield and challenging every bloodsucking fiend in Riften to come at her.

But they didn’t. They hesitated, looking at one another in confusion. One began to jabber and started backing up over the bridge. Alicia was left dumbfounded.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she shouted at them. “Come on! What are you afraid of?”

Then she heard the thunder. At last it overtook the pounding in her ears and she heard the cacophony of hundreds - maybe thousands of boots all pounding the stone.

The Dawnguard surged passed her in a wave, roaring so loud it would have put the gods themselves to flight. Alicia felt her own war cry rising in her throat, felt it pull free of her open mouth, but found she could not hear it over the din. She willed her legs to run faster but the Dawnguard were determined to make it to the bridge before her.

Any thrall that stayed did not stay for long. She was close enough to the front to hear the first crash of steel and watched as one of the thrall was thrown clear off the road, over the side of the bridge and off into the canal as her soldiers crashed forward. They were unstoppable; a mad stampede of men and metal. It was all she could do to keep up with the charge. She could see it in the eyes of everyone around her and hear it in the roar still echoing all around her. They were here to fight, and not one of them would be backing down.

Those at the head of the column all but flew across the bridge. More thrall were knocked aside, cut down or thrown into the canal like dolls. Alicia crossed the bridge with them, pounding for the edge of the market before finding a toppled stall and hopping on the counter.

She shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice barely heard over the scramble. “East! Push them toward the bridge! Leave them nowhere to run!”

What she said after was cut off by another raucous cheer. It was almost impossible to believe that these were the same Dawnguard who had crawled into Riften the day before, their armor battered and their spirits broken. Watching them smash into the enemy, pushing forward against impossible odds, Alicia felt a surge of pride to be in command of such brave soldiers.

At the center of the market, a circle had formed around the entrance to the sewers. The last of Riften’s guards had been holding out as best they could but their lines had shrunk almost to nothing. They had fought bravely. Now it was the turn of the Dawnguard. It would be up to them to keep the people safe.

Alicia felt someone scuttling around the cart beside her. “Should have known you’d still be here!”

Talia looked up, grinning and baring her dagger. Alicia could barely hear her over the chaos. “It was a good speech.”

“Don’t kiss ass just yet, we’ve still got a battle to win. Where’s our favorite mage?”

“She’s going -” An explosion the size of a small wagon incinerated everything near the bridge to Mistveil Keep, blasting Alicia with hot air even from so far away. “Back for the Jarl.”

“So I see.” Alicia hopped down from the box, knocking shoulders with another of the Dawnguard as she did. Talia was there as she regained her balance, just as she always was. “I’ve got to get to the front. Illia will take care of the bridge and I can see the Lieutenant’s men coming up to the canal now. Everything’s ready. It’s just a matter of fighting it out now.”

Talia nodded fervently as though nothing in the world could be simpler. She had a lot of guts for someone who had probably spent most of life in the gutter. Then again, who had more courage than someone who risked their life for every scrap of bread?

“Okay. Just stay out of sight. We’ll take it from here.”

“But -”

“You’ve already done enough. You got us this far. You gave all these people a chance.” Alicia ruffled her hair fondly, distracting Talia before she could make a comeback. “And someone has to be there when this is over. There’ll be parades and pretty girls and hopefully a giant pile of gold. That’s what Jarls do, isn’t it? Throw parties? I can think of nothing I want more than for you to be standing before her, for I can think of no one more deserving of her praises.”

Talia looked like she wanted to argue more but stopped at another hard look from Alicia.

“Alright. I’ll be back soon. I promise. Just one more fight, right?”

The girl was too smart to believe her so Alicia ran off before she got the chance to make a comeback. She had the horrible sense she was dragging her into danger and had the sudden urge to solve a few problems with her blade instead of her words.

Captain or not, she had been on very few battlefields in her life and none of them had looked like this. The ground was littered with bodies but there were very few people standing upright, or at least none that were close by. The Dawnguard had pushed hard into the center of the market, forcing the vampires back and clearing out a huge space between the canal and the actual fighting. Alicia could see flashes of lightning and steel as swords were caught in the muted sunlight and she knew that distance would only grow. Illia was carving an absolute canyon through the vampire ranks near the castle while Riften’s guards continued to stand fast, giving her Dawnguard an anvil on which to smash the vampires.

Ahead of her was the mass confusion of heated battle. Men and women slashed wildly at one another and Alicia suddenly wished that Dawnguard armor had come in bright yellow. Perhaps she could look at adding little flags on sticks to part of the uniform.

She rushed forward, making way for men and women carrying stretchers as they ran in both directions. Her own skill with a blade could hardly turn the tide but she needed to be there. This was her fight. She meant what she had said back at the gates. This was her fight.

Before she could stop herself, the clash of steel turned to a deafening roar and all the sound in the world faded in its wake. She passed a cluster of Dawnguard on the fringe of the battle, watching as their officer strung them out. Protecting the stretchers, keeping the vampires penned in. Smart.

She barely got her shield up in time. A black blur slammed against her, darting between her soldiers and seeming to break for the market edge. The force knocked her off balance. Her boots scraped against the ground, one foot slipping off the shaft of a fallen spear. She felt her ankle twist as she nearly dropped to her knee. The vampire pushed more weight against the shield, pale hands grappling with the edge and trying to tear it away.

Lucky for her, as she planted her feet and came forward with her blade, the vampire was just as surprised. It was not grappling with her shield but was trying to save itself with it, clutching wildly at the edges to keep itself from falling flat. She thrust forward almost in panic, stabbing at the tumbling black form.

She felt the blade bite into something and shivered as the monster hissed in rage. “Foolish cattle! How dare you strike at me!”

It grabbed her shield with one hand and this time Alicia felt its full strength. Her arm was nearly pulled from its socket as it hurled the shield to the ground, taking Alicia with it. Her knees struck stone, her ankle screaming as it twisted further. The vampire reached toward its belt, hand grasping the handle of a vicious looking blade.

Alicia swung wildly, again cutting into the vampire, this time striking its arm. It reeled back, losing its grip on the hilt. She got to her feet, desperate to keep it on its heels.

She only noticed its other hand when it began to glow red. Her eyes widened, the monster snarled, and only by sheer luck was she able to duck behind her shield, raising it just enough to deflect the fireball as it slammed against her shield. The flames burst around the edges of the metal and even through solid steel she felt the heat of them against her arm. The sensation spread to her legs and down the back of her neck and she heard a cry of pain and surprise escape her lungs.

The vampire charged her. All Alicia could see was its boots getting closer, scrambling over the ground before her. She didn’t look to see if it had drawn its blade. She dropped to her knees again, this time shoving her sword down with her. She felt the air above her rush past as something missed her head by mere inches.

Her sword found the vampire’s leg, carving a deep gash out of its thigh and glancing sharply off the bone. It howled in pain, crumpling to one side as it lost its balance.

Not giving it a chance to get back up, Alicia pulled her sword back, lifted her shield away from her eyes, and lunged for heart. The vampire was toppling sideways, sprawling on the market cobbles but even now it was trying to fight back. With the blade still in its hand, it tried to scramble up to meet her, hacking desperately at her with wild eyes.

Its dagger met only her shield as Alicia dove forward, practically falling on top of her sword as she struck the killing blow.

The monster seized as it died, dropping its dagger as the sword sank into its chest. It snapped at her, snarling and making almost feral noises as the last of the life faded from its eyes.

Alicia pulled her sword free, looking haggardly up toward the battle still raging ahead of her. She had not even reached the front yet. The soldiers before her fought in clumps, their line broken between market stalls, overturned wagons, and whatever else cluttered the open square. It was a complete mess, a brawl that had spilled into the streets and consumed all of the town.

Her shield scraped against the ground, her muscles flaring as she pushed herself to her feet. She had to do this. Her people needed her. The Dawnguard needed her.

She practically sprinted into the market, shield held at the ready. The group of Dawnguard in front of her did not see her coming, only recognizing her when she slammed headlong into the first thrall she found. Holding what looked like an old scythe, what was once a Dunmer woman was trying to bash in the head of one of the Dawnguard. Before she could bring the weapon down, Alicia put all her weight behind the shield and pushed, knocking her to the ground with a loud yelp and a dull bong! The woman thrashed on the ground for just a moment before another soldier put her down for good.

The sight, one that had once filled Alicia with sadness and terror, now filled her with rage. She looked about for a vampire to murder, imagining those glowing eyes as the ones that had broken this woman’s mind and turned her into this. It was not hard to find one, and she stalked forward, sword still red from her latest revenge.

“It’s the captain!” one of the voices beside her shouted. “Show her what real Dawnguard can do! Push these bastards back!”

They did. Bit by bit, stone by bloody stone, the endless tide of vampires, thrall, and mist-wreathed dogs began to give. There was nowhere for them to go. They were trapped, and as they began to realize it, they fought like cornered animals. In her fury, Alicia felt herself taking intense, almost sickening satisfaction in their faces. This was what they had done to her friends, to the people of this city. This was what they deserved. This was how they deserved to die.

She had no idea how long it was before the battle finally ended, only that her sword arm was limp. Her shield weighed a thousand pounds, her legs unable to carry her another step.

When the Dawnguard began to cheer, she could scarcely hear it. She found herself standing alone, somewhere near the center of the market and the great fountain that dominated it. It felt like a dream, or maybe like the end of a bad dream and the haze that came upon waking. The world seemed to grow distant, fading behind the sound of her thundering heart.

As the world around her began to shift, the shapes of men and women running turned to blurs of black and crimson. The earth came rushing up to meet her. Her knees struck the ground as the numbness in her mind broke with a single thought; it was over. 


	44. Tell Me A Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira takes a moment to heal Serana's injuries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played around with a different writing style for this chapter, something I thought was a more formal fantasy storytelling voice. I also played around with the lore a bit just because it was fun to invent a story here rather than retell the existing one. Let me know what you think, either in the comments here or on Tumblr. Thanks!

“There. Good as new.”

Eira’s voice was quiet, hardly rising above a whisper, but she knew Serana would have no trouble hearing her. The world had gone silent. There was nothing to hear but each other.

The sky seemed to press down on them more and more with each passing moment. Black clouds coursed like things alive over the blood-red sky, casting all the world in an unnatural, sanguine light. Eira had been trying to keep her eyes on her work, focusing on healing the wound Serana had gotten at Dragon Bridge. It was not working as well as she had hoped.

As Eira finished her work, Serana was already on her feet, already climbing the next hill. Eira tried to follow her but she found her own feet only dragged in the dirt. She found herself watching as Serana got farther away, not saying a word even as she reached the rocks near the top. It was Serana who finally noticed that Eira was not following her, turning to face her before she vanished from sight.

“Eira. We have to go.”

Her words were kind but implacable, forceful and inevitable. There was no malice there, only the truth. In a way, it was a fine description of Serana herself. She was very much a force of nature. Such a benevolent hurricane Eira had found herself with.

“You need rest.”

Serana closed her eyes, shaking her head and taking a few steps down the hill toward Eira. “My father will not be resting, nor will his legions take a moment to themselves. They will not wait for us to meet them. Every hour, every minute we spend here, he uses my blood to kill thousands.”

“It will be millions if we fail.” Eira held her hands to her sides in surrender. She did not want to fight, and she knew reminding Serana of what was at stake would hardly ease her mind. “There is no one to stop him if we die here.”

Serana gritted her teeth. “I know, Eira. I know.”

“Your father will be waiting for you, just as you said. Even you are not invincible. Even you will find a challenge in him.”

That surely stung her but it was something Serana needed to hear. “I can beat him.”

“Not like this. Not if you’re tired. Or if that wound didn’t close all the way because the one doing the healing wasn’t sure of her work.”

Serana forced herself to smile at that. It was something Eira could appreciate. “I feel sure of her work.”

“Then let me get a look at it again. Come on. Sit down and rest. Please.”

Eira might as well have asked Serana to stop the world from spinning, but if there was one thing she knew about Serana, it was that she could do anything if she set her mind to it. She would move heaven and earth if they stood in her way.

For a long moment, Serana stood where she was. She actually stood still for so long that Eira began to worry she would refuse and they would be dragged straight into the final battle with her father without a moment to breathe. As frightening as it was, it was also a surprisingly tempting thought. The end was in sight. They had only a little farther to go. Her father was powerful - probably the most powerful sorcerer in the world - but after all they had gone through, there was no way they could fail. That was how it had felt back in Dragon Bridge, anyway, and even with the sky darkened, a trace of that fire still burned.

It had just been buried by a mountain of ash.

Serana let out a long, defeated sigh. “Alright. Alright, just… a few moments.”

Eira nodded, beginning her own walk up the hill to join Serana. “Thank you.”

Serana did not reply, only turned around and trudged the last few paces to the top of the hill. It would have made a pleasant scene in normal times. A small cluster of trees with a few moss-covered boulders lying between them. With everything around them seeming to writhe under the black and crimson sky, it now looked otherworldly, the sort of hilltop one would find haunted by an ancient spirit of malice. Or vengeance.

That spirit climbed until it reached Serana, now standing at the crest and staring off toward Castle Volkihar. Eira set herself down on the far side of the rock and joined her in staring into the distance. She found herself unable to fix her gaze on anything. The view that normally would have been so peaceful now looked foreboding. This was what they had done to the world.

And here they could not even see the chaos that had been unleashed. Dragon Bridge was beyond sight or sound, as were Solitude and Morthal. It was probably for the best that they were so far removed from the world.

It wasn’t hard to imagine what was happening in those places. Solitude would hold for some time, its walls thick and its defenders strong. Morthal, with no walls and no one to defend it save for the local guards, would have long since fallen silent. There would be no fires burning there.

Eira felt herself beginning to collapse into the rock. She had failed them. All of them. No, worse than that, she had sacrificed them.

Serana came to rest silently beside her, showing her own fatigue in her own, silent way. Her shoulder brushed Eira’s, then her head found her shoulder. She must have been exhausted. Her hair brushed Eira’s neck, every breath felt in the motion of her chest. Had they ever been this close before? Eira could no longer remember. She found her head falling back against the rock. What a pitiful sight they must have made.

A long time ago, Eira had nearly fallen asleep in the company of a strange vampire. Dimhollow felt like a different lifetime. It must have happened to different people. Now, just as it had happened to that other, far-away Eira, she was stirred from her slumber by the sound of rustling wind too enticing to be human.

“Tell me a story.”

Eira listened to the words twice over before tilting her head in confusion. “What?”

“A story,” Serana murmured, her head still on Eira’s shoulder, her eyes still fixed on something neither of them could see. “You must know a few.”

The words still didn’t make sense to Eira. A story? Now? She felt herself start to smile sadly. “I’m afraid I don’t know any stories. Not for times like these.”

Serana’s voice was still no more than a whisper. “I’m not asking for the story of Ysgramor, of how the Companions came to be. I’m not asking for a tale of the gods and of creation. I just… want to be somewhere else. Just for a moment. You must know some. Something of you before you met me. When you were happy.”

Eira winced at the sound of that. Was that really how Serana thought of her? “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“I’ve always loved stories. When I was a girl, that’s how I would escape. I would find one of the books I hadn’t read, climb up one of the forgotten towers, and read by the fire until I was somewhere else. Somewhere better.” Her head shifted against Eira’s shoulder, one hand brushing the edge of Eira’s. “Please? Can you do that for me?”

Nothing would have given Eira greater joy than doing so, but there were no stories that came to mind. Whatever Serana said, there were none that fit. There was nothing from her childhood, no tales of life in the orphanage that could lighten her heart. The stories of Natalie, of the woman who had made Valenwood a place of light and beauty, had no place here. Serana knew the stories that came after. The Companions, the Brotherhood, neither of them had stories that would help, and Serana would certainly have heard them already.

What, then, could she say?

“There is one,” Eira said, the tale coming back to her as though shrouded in mist. “It was… well, a long time ago.”

Serana huffed quietly. “Oh?”

“Mm. Even for you, this is an old story. It’s a story about a woman who thought she could challenge the gods.”

“I think I understand her already.”

“In those days, the world was ruled by those much more powerful than humans. Dragons were like gods in those days.”

Eira stopped to smile as Serana nudged her shoulder. “Without people like us to stop them?”

“Something like that,” she said, returning the nudge of her tired head. “There was no one to challenge them. Their magic was far beyond ours and no swords had been made to pierce their scales. We lived as best we could, the whims of the dragons spelling life and death for anyone they saw. It was a hard and terrible time for all who witnessed it, and it was no way for women or men to live.”

The story, unfolding as much for Eira as it was for Serana, began to form more clearly in her mind. She wasn’t even sure how she knew the tale, but here it was, coming out of her mouth as easily and clearly as the stories of her youth. The quiet humming of Serana was enough to spur her on with the tale. If she was doing something besides charging off toward Castle Volkihar, Eira must have been doing something right.

“For a long time, it was just how life was. It would have been foolish to resist - a man could not battle a dragon, after all - and acceptance came as the only alternative to certain death.”

“Until someone stood up to them.”

“Her name was…” Eira felt her brow knit as she tried to settle on a name. She knew the name. It almost felt familiar. It was on the tip of her tongue. “Ylette. It was she who first stood against the dragons and their servants among the people. Her sword cut down the first priests of the dragons. Before her, no one else had dared to try. The dragons took notice, and they did not spare her long. One came for her, intending to strike her down as an example. In front of a great crowd, it challenged her, knowing in its heart no mortal could stand against her, against the fire that surged from its jaws.”

Serana hummed some more. “But she stopped it. Didn’t she?”

“Her magic was as strong as her sword was swift. The fire crashed over her, washed around her, and left her untouched. She shouted to the crowd, raising her sword against the astonished dragon. It howled in defiance, but it was too late. Pinned to the ground by the air, its legs swallowed by the stone at its feet, the dragon fell to her sword. It was the first, but it would not be the last.”

“She could do that? She knew how to shape stone?” Serana asked quietly.

“It was old magic, perhaps so old that no one now remembers, but that is how it happened.” Eira found herself hoping Serana did not press the issue because this was already the extent of her knowledge. Luckily for her, Serana simply nodded. “The first dragon slayer.”

Eira smiled. “How far we’ve come. We would have made her proud.”

“What happened next?”

“The dragons did not like that one of their own had fallen, and they liked far less the idea of losing those that worshipped them. War followed, and between dragons and men, there was no mercy for one side or the other. Men learned to fight, to use spears and arrows and old ways of magic to bring the dragons to earth and their mortal servants to their ends. Cities burned, but so did temples. Cradles and clutches were smashed with equal hatred. Ylette led her armies to victory after victory, and every dragon felled was worth ten thousand men, their numbers were so few. Soon the dragons came to fear Ylette. They feared what she could do to them. For the first time in their lives, they feared the god of death.”

Serana squinted, still staring off into the distance but no longer holding so much tension in her shoulders. “There were more fighting than just Ylette. No matter how skilled she was, even if she won, the world would burn as she did. So many would die never knowing if the world was free.”

“Many did, but we are here now because they followed her. Ylette knew her people were suffering. No matter what she did, she could not save them. So she turned to the gods, each of them in turn. When she found herself alone on the field, gazing upon her most loyal and beloved friend, she prayed to Mara. She asked her ‘I would give her up, the love of my life, forever, just to see her safe.’ But Mara did not answer, her eyes turned on those in need of comfort and healing. She did not heed Ylette.”

“Next she turned to Stendarr. As she turned toward the next field of battle, the grass soon to be burned, the brave men and women behind her soon to be lying among the ashes, she murmured ‘I would fight for them, for you, forever, never to rest until my people are free.’ But Stendarr did not answer. His eyes were on those of the rank and file, those whose hands held spears and bows and whose hearts were full of fear. He saw their need, and he steadied their hands when battle was upon them. He did not heed Ylette.”

“The war went on. Ylette watched her friends fall, their families torn apart by those she fought against every day. Soon it became too much for her. She knew the only way to end the war, the only way for her to save the ones she loved, would be to face the most feared of all the dragons, and defeat him, alone. She laid her trap well, and he was drawn from hiding to face her, his legions surrounding him, her legions standing fast beside her. The dragon’s name was known to all. In the shadow of a great fortress, those that followed Ylette made their peace, knowing none of them would return.”

“And they still followed her,” Serana whispered.

“They believed in her. They loved her, just as she loved them. And they knew what they fought for.”

Whatever Serana had intended to say, she cut herself off just as the words reached her lips. Eira could not help but think of those forced to do the same tonight, to fight against an enemy that wanted to enslave them or worse. They fought for their own lives but were only forced to because other people, people like Eira and Harkon, had made the choices that had brought them here. Even Serana was just caught in the middle.

That was how it had to end. Eira and Harkon. Just like in the story.

“I know the dragon’s name,” Serana said quietly. “I remember this story. I think.”

“Alduin,” Eira recalled the name as she had the whole of the story: by saying it aloud. “His name was Alduin, and it was said he could not be killed. He was immortal, his wings as black as night, his Voice the terror of all who heard it. None could escape him, and certainly none could face him in battle and live. When he spread his wings, he could steal the very light from the sun. Ylette knew all of this, and yet she knew she had to try. She found herself alone that night, her best friend far from her side. She wanted her to be safe. It was then that she prayed to the final god, the one with whom she had never wanted to consort.”

“Arkay. The god of the dead, the one who had stolen from her every friend she had known, all the family she had loved, save for one. She had promised never to speak to him, never to think of him, lest his gaze turn to the one thing that had been left to her. Now, desperate, knowing she faced her end, she prayed.”

Serana hummed. “And he answered.”

“Of all the mortals he had seen, he had only pity for her. He knew how much she had lost, how much each new wound must hurt her. His pity for her turned his ear, and where all the other gods had failed to listen, he gave his full attention to her. Ylette did not misuse it. She pleaded with him. ‘Tomorrow, what is left of my friends, my people, will die. I have nothing left to offer, nothing to give, but my own life, and I would give it gladly to see them safe.’”

“Arkay was kind, but his words offered Ylette no comfort in her darkest hour. ‘From every life must come a death, and there are many deaths to come tomorrow. I cannot spare them their fate.’ As he spoke, Ylette began to weep. Her voice cracked in his ears, the fury of her conviction startling even a god. ‘I would take their deaths,’ she cried. ‘I would die for each of them, a thousand times and more. I would do this for each of them if it meant they would be spared.’”

Taking their deaths, dying countless times to save countless lives, did not seem such a bad trade to Eira. It sounded like something the Companions would do, or perhaps more appropriately, were doing right now.

So many were dying tonight. So many more would die tomorrow. She wondered if Arkay was watching, if he would listen to a prayer like that tonight.

“A brave woman,” Serana said quietly. “And Arkay? He listened?”

“In her prayers, Ylette was interrupted, the needs of the coming battle now pressing upon her. Arkay’s words were muddled and all she heard was his apology. ‘I am sorry.’ She walked the walls of her great fortress in silence, sharpening her sword one final time, rehearsing the spells she would need in the chill of the night air and prepared to speak them in the heat of battle. Her people still needed her. Alduin came for her and she would be there to face him, no matter what it cost her.”

“The next morning, Alduin came. His wings spread, his dragons darkened the sky, his legions shaking the earth with the thunder of their footsteps. Ylette stood beside her friends, said what she knew would be her last goodbyes, and turned to face Alduin.”

The sky above them was dark, but there was no thunder of marching thrall to hear, no distant battle playing out between good and evil for them to witness. It was there, of course, and it was Eira who had forced it into being, but she was spared the worst of it.

Serana was staring at the sky, too, probably thinking many of the same thoughts that had haunted them since finding Auriel’s Bow. “But she won. We wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.”

Eira found herself nodding along before she realized how strange that sounded. It was just a story, after all. A story that came from nowhere and felt as familiar as her own memories.

“Ylette stood alone on the fortress steps. When the gates broke apart under the weight of the battering rams, she stood against those who came charging through. Her sword was a blur, and no man or woman in their ranks could stand against it for long. She moved with a speed none of them could match, yet even as she fought and won again and again, she did it with tears in her eyes. Even as the dragons descended and they too found themselves no match for her fury, she could not hold back her tears.”

“At last, Alduin came for her, descending upon the courtyard as night descends upon day. Ylette stood firm, unwavering. She would not be moved. Alduin Shouted at her, his words unlike anything else in the world. The stone of the courtyard broke, the metal of Ylette’s sword shattered, and the very air itself fled from the power of his Voice, but Ylette would not be moved. She fought him, her own Voice ringing in the courtyard, and for the first time, Alduin was met with a challenge. He staggered, but he was not beaten, and he returned with a fury that would have split the earth in two. Again and again they clashed, the world around them shattering until there was nothing left to break.”

“The fortress began to crumble, the mountain face caving in upon the ancient stones. Ylette heard it, saw the rocks falling down in boiling sheets of gray, but she could do nothing. Her friends were there. They were dying. And she could not save them.”

Serana shook her head. “I am not sure I want to hear the end of this tale. She could not have saved them all.”

“No,” Eira said quietly. “She could not. And she knew this. As Alduin came again, his fire crashing over her in waves to rival the ocean, she heard a voice in her head. ‘Would you do this? Knowing what it will cost you? You will never know the peace of death. You will fight, forever, bound to this struggle that you have forced upon the world. It will be your burden, and yours alone.’ It was no question for Ylette. She shouted her answer ‘Yes!’ And at that moment, she knew the words. Her Voice boomed forth one final time, the words known to her and to Alduin. For the first time in his long life, fear etched his wretched face, and he was banished from the world. The force of her Shout ripped the dragons from the sky and pushed Alduin’s legions from the field. With a bare handful of words, Ylette had won freedom for her people, and stood against the gods themselves.”

Eira looked over toward Serana and found her staring back, so close her hair tickled at Eira’s cheek. “She won, then?”

“She did.”

“But the voice - Arkay - he didn’t forget, did he? What kind of life is that? To spend all your immortal lives, dying over and over until her debt is finally paid? If it ever is?”

Eira smiled. “When you put it like that, no, it’s not the best way to spend eternity, is it? But I like to think that, given the same choice, I would take that same offer. The next day, when the sun rose, her friends were there to see it. Everyone she loved, everyone she cared about, they all got the chance to live their own lives. What must have felt like an eternal darkness was lifted. They were free. That sounds like something worth fighting for, even if that fight never truly ends. Don’t you?”

Serana stared into Eira’s eyes for a long time, her head tilting as she tried to read what was behind them. She had always been too good at doing that. Eira found the ground beneath her suddenly uncomfortable and began fidgeting under the piercing stare. “You may find,” she said quietly. “That I’m a very selfish person. I love very few, and those I do love, I want to keep for myself. All for myself.”

Her heart skipped a beat. The intensity behind Serana’s eyes was enough to make her feel weak in the knees and she was suddenly very grateful to be sitting on the ground.

“You know me well; probably better than anyone else. I am not one to shy away from a fight. If, like Ylette, I was made to fight for those I love, I would do so against dragons, gods, and more. But I have no interest in dying for those I hold most dear.” Serana turned, her fingers brushing Eira’s as her hand enfolded hers. “I would much rather spend a very long time living with them.”

Eira, feeling the heat spreading across her face as Serana’s eyes burned ever more intensely, did her best to brush off Serana’s words. The laughter was soft, lame, and failed to convince either of them. “It was only a story.”

Serana tilted her head just a little more, a strand of hair falling gracefully down to curve across her eye. “Of course it was. One you heard…”

Eira felt her cheeks turn an even deeper red. “Oh. Uh, I’m not - I don’t really -”

After she stumbled around for a few moments, lying poorly about where she thought she might have heard the story before, Serana shook her head. She didn’t believe a word of it and for some reason that made her smile. Seeing that made Eira start smiling, too, in spite of the nagging sense of dread that came with reciting the strange tale.

“You’re a remarkable woman. You know that, right?”

Her smile widened. “Well, I have a remarkable number of hopeless, end-of-the-world stories to cheer you up if you’re looking for another.”

“One was enough.” Serana leaned closer, resting her head once again on Eira’s shoulder and staring off into the distance. “Maybe once this is over.”

Once they were done with their own hopeless, end-of-the-world story, is what she meant. Every story needed a good ending. It wasn’t hard to imagine what theirs would be.

As Serana settled against her shoulder and the clouds continued to seethe overhead, Eira found herself thinking long and hard about exactly how their story should end. She wanted to keep Serana from that last confrontation. She knew it was impossible, but that did not stop her from thinking about it.

Eira had been many things in her time, but she would never be a mage. Her skills with the arcane arts would have been outmatched by a Serana scarcely able to lace her boots. If Harkon would face her with a blade or with a bow, maybe she could do something about that, but that was not how this would end. She doubted very much that she could creep up on him in his own castle, putting a blade in his heart before he was the wiser. Even if she could, he would probably just turn around and burn her to ash right there.

No. For all her cunning, this would come down to a contest of magic. Serana would face her father, and she would win, and all Eira could do was sit by and watch.

The thought infuriated her, but there was no other way. It was not the way it should have ended. She wanted to face him alone. Serana did not deserve that fight. Eira had been the one to give him the bow. This was between the two of them.

Eira let her head loll to the side, resting softly against Serana’s. “There is another one.”

“Hm?” The low hum from Serana’s throat rumbled through Eira’s shoulders, soothing her and drawing away for just a moment all thoughts of that final battle.

“Another story. I thought of one.” The low hum turned to a soft chuckle and Eira gave her a little nudge with her chin. “It’s a better one this time. No dragons.”

“That’s not a very interesting story, then, is it?” Serana asked playfully.

“I think you’ll like it. It’s about me.”

Serana actually snorted with laughter. “I’m already falling asleep.”

“It’s about me, and my terrible choices, and I promise it’s completely, wholly unflattering.”

Still shaking with mirth, Serana managed to move a little closer, pushing her head a further along Eira’s shoulder. One arm curled around Eira’s, her other hand curling around the crook of her elbow.

“Alright. If you promise it’s that embarrassing - “

“Almost all of them are.”

“Then I’m right here. Tell me a story.”


	45. Hero of Riften

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia recovers after the battle for Riften and faces the unfortunate truth that this is not the end of the fighting. Meanwhile, Talia wanders the now-quiet streets in search of her place in the world.

Rain pattered against the stone around her, clinging to her cheeks and dripping slowly from her eyelashes. It was supposed to feel different. The battle was over. Things were supposed to be better now.

The water pooled around her, soaking her knees where they pressed into the stone. Her boots kept most of the rain out but it had started finding its way down her back, cold drops mixing with the sweat that stained every inch of her. She shivered as much from their icy touch on her spine as she did from the exhaustion that now beat upon her. Her breath, ragged gasps since the battle had ended, had finally slowed to a faint, irregular shudder.

Boots splashed all around her. Guards shouted in voices she suddenly could not understand. They all melded together in the same, unintelligible chorus. They sounded happy, or at least some of them did. She truly couldn’t tell.

_Get up._

She had work to do. She knew she needed to be doing something but for the life of her she couldn’t think of what it was. It made it hard to even start pushing herself to her feet. What was the point? She should just stay here. Take a few more minutes; a few more hours. They had survived. It was over.

Her fingers tightened around the grip of her sword, the point digging into the stone a little further. Her eyes rose to the blade now grinding against the stone before her, its surface turned silvery with moonlight, the rain washing away the last of the red that had drenched it just moments before. It was the only thing keeping her steady right now. Her knees felt weak, her shoulders slumping under the weight as everything that had happened crashed into her. She stared at the polished steel and thought she saw her own face in the watery reflection.

As water poured over the blade, that face changed, and her stomach turned sick. She grimaced, wincing, coughing, and nearly falling to the floor as the face suddenly became Liza’s. Her lips tried to part. _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry._

More faces came after. Everyone she’d lost. Everyone she’d ordered to their deaths.

_Come on. Get up. You have to get up._

“Captain.”

The voice sounded like it was coming through ten feet of water. Suddenly she was aware of the intense ringing in her ears. Gods above, she was a mess.

“Captain? You alright?”

Alicia forced herself to look up, running the back of her hand along her forehead. The strands of hair plastered to her skin sloughed away to reveal a blurred but comforting figure. “Hey, old man.”

Lieutenant Vahar smiled as he sauntered toward her. The closer he came, the clearer his stone-and-gravel voice became. “I may be old but at least I’ve kept my feet. You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

“Oh, this?” Alicia tried to slough off the weight she felt on her shoulders. “This is nothing. Just catching my breath. That’s all.”

“I’m certain it is.”

“It’s good to see you. That fight… I wasn’t sure you’d made it.”

The old man chuckled. “I wasn’t sure any of us would make it. But you had the right idea. They never knew what hit them.”

Her eyes now raised from the paving stones, Alicia could once again see the chaos that surrounded her. No longer were the vampires trying to butcher everything in their path, but now it was up to those still standing to account for those that had been butchered. She watched as a pair of bloodstained stretcher bearers hurried another poor soul across the street, vanishing into the crowd and passing from her sight in a heartbeat.

“A shame we didn’t think of it sooner,” she murmured.

“The vampires sent no word they were coming,” Vahar grumbled soothingly. “It’s not like we had a lot of warning, did we? Whatever we did, it was the best we could, I think. Hiding in the Ratway as soon as we arrived may seem a sound choice now, but without a guide, without knowing where or how the vampires would gather, I think it would have been folly. We would have lost just as many, Alicia, maybe even more.”

He didn’t use her name often. It was a strangely comforting thing, but not one she welcomed right now. The Dawnguard needed their captain right now, not the redheaded farm girl that had wandered through their gates so long ago.

She needed to stand. “How did we fare? Do not spare me the truth. I need to know.”

Vahar sighed. “I’ll be honest, it’s bad, but it could have been much worse. Without you and your new friends, the sorceress and the thief, things would have been -”

“Talia.” Alicia felt her heart skip a beat. “Where is she? Is she hurt?”

“She’s fine,” Vahar said, placating her with a gesture and crouching down beside her as she tried to stand. “Just some scrapes from running off and playing hero. Best she could hope for, going up against those mages on her own.”

“Mages? Plural?”

“Vampire mages. You were busy fighting in the square, so you might not have noticed out little troubles near the bridge. I got sloppy, let a couple of them get settled into an old building. They started throwing fire at our guys as they tried to come down the road to help.” Vahar shook his head and growled. “Stopped us like a slammed door. Some got through the shops and into the market to help but most of us were just stuck. Couldn’t poke your nose out from cover without it getting burnt off.”

Alicia cocked her head, pushing more hair from her eyes as it flopped down in front of them. “And Talia?”

“We didn’t know it was her at first. The fire just stopped. A few of us had gotten together to push them out of the house, so we were pretty close already, but it didn’t matter. We jumped through the door and found them all dead.”

The old man shrugged, shaking his head even more as gruff laughter rose from his chest. “How many?”

“From what we counted? Two, three mages. A few others ran out of there pretty quick but we took care of them before they could do much.”

Alicia stared blankly as the words refused to sink in. Talia had killed them? A building full of vampire mages and she had just…

Vahar looked down at Alicia and a very helpless smile crept over his lips. “She’s a tough one, Captain, I’ll give her that. Can’t help but wonder, though. From what I’ve seen, someone who takes risks like that shouldn’t have come out of the Ratway alive.”

Alicia scoffed. “I couldn’t agree more. Where is she?”

“Who knows? Half the time she seems to just pop out of your shadow, so I’m sure she’s - ah. See? What did I tell you?”

The girl that shuffled through the rain, materializing from nowhere as she always did, was no larger than a mouse. She looked like she should be putting out her hands and begging for bread or, better, asking her father to read her another of those great stories about knights in shining armor. She was supposed to be playing in the yard fighting dragons with sticks, not trying to stick vampire sorcerers with knives.

She shuffled up beside Alicia and did her best to smile. It proved infectious. Suddenly the weight on her shoulders was not as terrible as it once was. She found herself sitting up, using one hand to scrub yet more water from her eyes and push the hair back behind her ear.

“Are you all finished playing hero, then?”

The girl managed to look embarrassed, somehow ashamed that she had single handedly saved Alicia’s life. Again. “Yeah. I didn’t much like the attention.”

“Look at that.” Vahar’s laughter was what Alicia imagined a dragon’s might sound like: deep, booming, and full of rattling scales. “She’s smarter than you already.”

“I may be thick as a post but my ears do work,” Alicia said, trying to be haughty but losing a good deal of her tone as it passed through still-smiling lips. “And I am sitting right here.”

“While the woman of the hour stands tall.”

It was a good point, and put far more tactfully than she deserved. Still, she was the captain here, and she was not obligated to handle such criticism well. She shot her underling a glare. “How long have you been there, looming over your commander?”

Vahar grinned, gaps appearing in the toothy maw. Skyrim had worn the old man down like a wagon road. He did not move to help her.

Talia did, stepping forward and offering Alicia one slender hand. Alicia rolled her eyes. “Come on, now, haven’t you made me look bad enough?”

“I was just doing what I was told, Captain. I don’t - I wouldn’t be here without you.” Talia shrugged, her tattered gray cloak seeming to soak up more water than it kept away. Hopefully her new clothes kept her a little warmer than that. “None of us would.”

Praise was not something Alicia handled well. She found herself shaking her head at the stones and trying to find something clever to say in response. She liked it better when everything was going tits up and people needed someone to blame. It made sense, actually; she had spent her short tenure as captain trying to dig herself out of a hole, so finding herself without anything to shovel was a strange and uncomfortable experience.

In fact, as she knelt in front of her sword, water pooling around her, she found herself wondering what came next. There were still fires to put out, these fires being more literal than those of the last few days, but she had no idea where to even start. Besides, that was the Jarl’s domain. Her people could handle that. They would have more experience. They would probably even have a plan for what to do in this exact scenario. Better to just leave it to them.

For a brief and terribly naive moment, Alicia dared to believe that she might be able to lie down for a moment and take a hard-earned rest before the next crisis came calling, but it was not to be. A single, deep, horribly-grating voice pierced the air, stabbing through her like an arrow to the heart.

“A great victory! A victory for the Dawnguard! True warriors that stood against these… bloodsucking monsters. And did not waiver!”

Isran. She thought she heard Vahar groan, his gut heaving like a blacksmith’s bellows. “So many dead and not one sword could be spared for him.”

Alicia said nothing. Suddenly all her fatigue had vanished. The thought of lying down and closing her eyes made her physically angry as she imagined that hairless troll leading her Dawnguard on some suicidal rush against whatever remained outside the walls. Her fingers tightened around her sword, her eyes narrowing on the hilt. The leather of her armor creaked, the chain and plate rattling quietly as her muscles tensed.

She would not let him.

Alicia rose, forgetting completely about Talia’s extended hand until it awkwardly fell away. Her vision still confined to a single point, she had the presence of mind to put one hand on Talia’s shoulder in quiet but sincere thanks.

“Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Gather our people. They have been through a lot these last few days. They deserve a few words of recognition.”

“I’ll have it done.”

Alicia turned toward Mistveil keep, extending one hand toward the still-burning structure. “Where’s that sorceress?”

“Wherever the wind takes her, ma’am. I’ll put runners out, though. She isn’t hard to spot.”

“We have plenty of need of her skills tonight. If she’s able, have her meet with Thorvald and give him any aid she can offer. The wounded need her the most.”

Vahar, having eyes in the back of his head, turned over one shoulder and barked. “You there, soldiers! Front and center! Your work’s not done yet!”

The unfortunate gaggle of a dozen Dawnguard survivors scampered over, stopping at sharp attention just behind him. Alicia continue to rattle off her list of demands and, as she went, Vahar motioned toward each of them, passing orders along so quickly she barely had to slow her train of thought. The man was indispensable. “We’ll need a bucket brigade started near the estates. Keep the fire from spreading any further. We’ve got a lot of people here who just lost their homes. Keep every building we can standing so we don’t lose to the elements what we saved from the vampires. Get someone to start going through rations and put out word to the locals; anyone with a hunt, trap, or forage, we need looking for food in the morning. Keep them close to the walls and make sure they’re protected. I don’t want them picked off the moment they leave the city. Carpenters, stonemasons, and anyone who can use a hammer will have more work than they can do in a lifetime. The main gates, for one thing, need more than a little love right now.”

She lowered her voice as she spoke the next words. “And, if you would, find if any priests of Mara or any of the other Divines escaped.”

“Ma’am?”

“We have a lot of dead to bury, Lieutenant. Their deaths were not on their terms but their burials at least should be. I will not have these people put in a mass grave. Not if I can help it. We’ll take the bodies and sort through them somewhere quiet - the northern part of the city should do well. It’s quiet and most of the homes there are gone anyway.” She suppressed a twinge in her throat that threatened to form a lump. “We’ll need shovels. And some clear land. Outside the walls if we have to.”

“I understand. I’ll see to it personally.”

“Thank you. The task is not an enviable one.”

“No, ma’am.”

Her eyes wandered the marketplace for a moment, the bustle of it nearly forgotten. Bodies were already being seen to by those still standing. A few had started dragging them out of the way and putting them into rows. They looked small now but she had a sinking feeling in her gut that would not last very long. Men and women alike wandered quietly through the city like ghosts, eyes on the dead faces staring up at them. They didn’t look quite human as they walked, just sort of glided over the broken ground, shuffling over the battlefield with quiet and ethereal dignity. Sometimes they found a familiar face, and the ghosts would stop and begin to wail.

“Gather anyone still alive and put them up where you can. Taverns, brothels, inns, and anywhere else that might have beds to sleep in. Put fires in the hearths and whatever food you can in their bellies. That is all.”

“What of the enemy? The vampires?”

Alicia felt her lip curl in disgust. “The city is still burning, isn’t it? Plenty of pyres to choose from.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you. If that is all, I should speak to the Jarl. We’ll need her help in all this and I want to make sure her people are safe.” She scrubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, hesitating. “She is still alive, yes? Have you seen her?”

“To the best of my knowledge,” Vahar admitted slowly, the caution in his tone something Alicia decidedly did not like. “I will see what I can dig up. You might have better luck just making your way to the palace.”

She nodded. “I would agree. Spare the runners, they’ve enough work to do as it is. I’ll make my way over now.”

“I’ll find you an escort.”

Alicia laughed, nodding to Talia. “I’ve already got one, and I think you’d be hard-pressed to find better.”

Talia’s stance turned rigid at Alicia’s words. After all she’d done for the city, it was hard to imagine she was still afraid of ending up in the dungeons. She said nothing, however, and actually turned to start walking with Alicia toward the keep. That was good. Alicia wanted Talia there when she delivered Riften back to the Jarl’s hands. The girl deserved her moment.

“I think you’re right,” Vahar said, chuckling quietly. “Very well. Once the Dawnguard have things in hand, I’ll make sure they’re ready to hear your words. You did well tonight, Captain.”

“Get going.” Alicia waved him dismissively down the road. Too much praise was bad for your health, anyway. Her father had told her that. Or at least she thought he had. It sounded like something he’d say.

As Vahar left, taking the remaining Dawnguard with him, Alicia turned toward the still-burning keep. Sending her soldiers to help the market was a noble deed, but it had come at a price. If the Jarl had indeed survived the night, it had been by the slimmest of margins. Even from here Alicia could pick out the breaches in the courtyard walls. The front gate looked as though it had fallen in on itself and every guard in sight was busy carrying either bricks or bodies from heaps on the main stairs.

But, here and there, signs of life remained. The fighting had never quite reached the southern edge of the city, and a pocket of undamaged homes now threw open their doors to those less fortunate than themselves. Near the market, the orphanage had lost its roof but the children had survived and were now being ushered out of their hiding places. As Alicia watched, a guardsman dropped his helmet with a loud clang and fell to his knees before being tackled to the ground by two small children and a young woman who wrapped herself about his neck and appeared very determined to stay there. Things could have been much worse.

“What do you say, Talia?” Alicia asked, smiling at the girl beside her. “How should we tell the Jarl her city is free of vampires?”

Talia smiled. “Quickly, if we can. And indoors.”

Of course. Alicia cast an unhappy glance toward the sky where the sun was doing its best to break through the oppressive and unnatural cloud cover. She had pushed it from her mind before the battle and only now did it come crashing back. Someone, or something, had turned the whole sky against them. What on earth could wield such terrible power?

“One fight at a time,” she heard herself saying. She did not look to see if it instilled any confidence in Talia.

As they crossed the market, making their way toward the bridges and the keep beyond, Alicia felt a lingering sense of dread as the deep red light enveloped everything. It made everything feel small, their great struggle for the city of Riften an insignificant and meaningless struggle. Soon, the city would fall, one way or another, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

They were fighting something more than human, something normal people like them could not possibly hope to defeat. A smart woman would know when to give up, to lie down and let that horrible defeat come in as painless a way as possible.

It was a good thing, then, that Alicia was not very smart.

 

The audience with the Jarl could have come straight from one of Talia’s fantasies. In weaker moments, she had imagined the most powerful woman in Riften kneeling to her, praising her for her bravery and offering her the keys to the city.

Now, Talia watched as the Jarl put one hand on her chest and the other on Talia’s shoulder. She leaned in, eyes locked with Talia’s in a moment that surely was meant to be heartfelt and soulful, the Jarl humbly thanking the lowborn beggar for her service to the city. Instead Talia found herself fixating on the strangest things. There was a lot of soot on the Jarl’s robes. Was that from the palace catching fire or had she tripped and fallen into a pit of ash on the way here? The jewels around her neck were imperfectly set and some quick fingers could have removed the bracelet on her left wrist. Someone probably should before the Dawnguard saw it. After all the fighting they had done, seeing someone wearing finery on a night like could not possibly go over well. Even the Jarl’s hair was a disorderly mess. It was a good thing Illia had come with them instead of staying at the palace but clearly her absence had been hard on those at the palace.

Talia stiffened as the Jarl squeezed her shoulder gently. “I shall not forget the favor you’ve done for my people. By my right as Jarl, I swear to you that so long as the walls of Riften stand, you shall want for nothing. Whatever you desire, you have but to ask, and I shall do all in my power to make it so. Thank you, Talia.”

What the lowborn beggar was supposed to say in response Talia could only guess. “It was - thank you - it was nothing. I - the Dawnguard, they did the fighting. Not me.”

She had never claimed to have a silver tongue but even for her, the bumbling display was enough to make her cringe. Ava would have been appalled.

Ava. The wave of nausea that swept over her threatened to drop her to the ground but she forced herself to stand. She wouldn’t be that weak. Not again.

The Jarl was smiling. “Their courage has been shown without question. As has yours. You will be remembered for this, no matter the crimes of your past. If a woman of your quality has been living in the gutter of my city, it is my failing as Jarl that put you there. I will not make the same mistake twice.”

She released her grip on Talia’s shoulder and turned to face Alicia. “And you, brave captain. I have you and your soldiers to thank for the safety of my city. Words cannot express my gratitude for the lives of my people. You have won a great victory tonight, an impossible victory, and the people of Riften will never forget it. The coming days will be hard on all of us; we have many to bury and many more to feed, shelter, and care for. But we will see an end, thanks to you.”

Alicia was the very image of the conquering hero. She raised one fist to her chest and gave a deep bow with her salute. Talia was so busy watching she only later realized she should probably have followed her example.

“I thank you for those kind words, but I do not believe this was a victory.”

“What do you mean?”

“May I speak candidly, your grace?”

“I would have it no other way, captain.”

“Look at the sky and say again that this is a victory.”

The Jarl did look, as did Talia, and she instantly regretted the decision. It felt like the whole world was ending, like those black clouds would fall at any moment, swallowing up the world like dragons while blood rained from the heavens to drown them all. It was horrifying, and it made her feel like she was back in the Ratway. Like suddenly she would turn around and Valen would be there, snarling, grabbing, punching until she was lifeless on the ground.

She felt herself begin to shiver once again. Only when Alicia’s hand found her arm did she realize how close she had drifted to the woman. Alicia gave her a nudge and a quiet smile before turning her face back to the Jarl, who was only now looking back from the clouds.

“A war has many battles, captain, as I am sure you are aware, but I do not miss your point. Whatever has poisoned the sky is something of great power. Perhaps these vampires stumbled onto a magic ritual of some kind and, with their numbers scattered, it will fade in due time.” She paused, letting that wonderful, hopeful thought breathe for all-too-short a time. “However, I would not put much faith in such a miracle, and unless my eyes deceive me, you are of a similar mind.”

Alicia nodded but said nothing for a long moment. The Jarl folded her arms, casting another glance at the sky. Talia fidgeted and looked up at Alicia, waiting for her to tell them what to do. That was what she did, wasn’t it? She had an answer for everything.

“Riften has seen enough of war,” Alicia said quietly, her voice slow and careful as she spoke. “I would not ask for your assistance.”

“Though it pains me to say it, my counsel is all I can offer you now,” the Jarl answered with a weak smile. “And it is that you stay here a while longer. Care for your wounded. Take your rest. You have won a hard fight. What do you gain by rushing headlong into danger?”

The Captain of the Dawnguard set her jaw. “Time, something we have precious little of, I think. Everyone can see the smoke, your grace. May I ask you how many of your storehouses went up in the blaze?”

Talia blinked in surprise. The Jarl did not. “I have not had the men to spare to look, though I confess my hopes are not high. In this, I’m afraid, your thoughts mirror the best of my court.”

“And the castle? How long can your pantries feed the city?”

There was another unhappy pause as Talia looked from Alicia to the Jarl. “I cannot say. The vampires burned much of those stores as well. Truly I don’t know.” She shook her head, trailing off until Alicia prompted her to give her true answer. “Days.”

The thought was monstrous. Hunger was no stranger in Talia’s life, but to survive all this only to fall for lack of bread was beyond imagining. She looked to Alicia and once more found that the Captain had taken her place. She always had a plan.

“They will return, your grace. You know this. When they do, they will not need to breach the walls; they will need only to keep us here, penned in like cattle, before we are too weak to fight back. Now, at this moment, they are beaten. I will venture forth, find what help I can in the other cities, and buy your people the time they need. Repair the walls. Gather what crops and livestock still remain. Tend to the wounded and the homeless. There will be many in need of shelter in the coming days.”

A heavy sigh escaped the Jarl as she listened. “I understand things appear dire, but what if you encounter more of these vampires on the roads? Where will you even go? Do you have a way to track the evil that has darkened the sky? Searching all of Skyrim is no small feat and, capable as they are, the Dawnguard are surely in need of rest.”

“We all are, your grace, but I see no choice. I can only give the orders that I believe will lead to victory and to the safety of any innocent people that survived the night. I don’t know how far they spread last night, but I intend to find out, and I intend to stop them from going any further.”

Alicia looked over her shoulder as a pair of Dawnguard messengers rushed up the bridge. She raised a hand to them as they neared, halting them in their tracks. They stood at attention, looking to one another and trying subtly to decide which one of them should get to speak first.

The Jarl lowered her voice. “What will you tell them?”

“The truth,” Alicia said with a smile. “The battle is over, but there is still a war to be fought. With your leave.”

Talia turned back to find the Jarl raising one hand to her heart in respect. “Gods guide you, Captain.”

With that, Alicia gave one last bow of respect and turned to leave. Talia did the same, hurrying behind her and trying not to look too eager in the process. She noticed a quirking of Alicia’s lips and immediately reddened. She was supposed to be the sneaky one.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?”

“What?”

Alicia gave her a smile, tilting her head to regard her as they walked. “You’ve gone from thief to thane in the span of an evening. I would imagine that’s a bit… jarring.”

The understatement was so profound that all Talia could say was. “She didn’t actually make me a thane. She didn’t. Right?”

The woman’s laugh made Talia wish for a moment that she had never set foot on that bridge. “No, no, she wouldn’t do that. You only saved the whole city from vampires. They don’t make you thane for that. Thane is more of a dragon-killing thing.”

“I think I would have preferred a dragon,” Talia said, crossing her arms and sulking in her newfound recognition.

“Come on.” Alicia tried giving her a nudge but Talia instinctively moved around it. “Take pride in what you’ve done. You’ve given us a chance, and I promise you that we will not waste it.”

As they neared the bridge and the waiting messengers, Talia pulled up short. She gave Alicia a dumbfounded look. “I’m coming with you.”

“Captain!”

Before Alicia could answer, though from her suddenly sympathetic face Talia could already fill in her words, the Jarl’s voice rang out once again. Alicia turned back to face her.

“You never told me how you will find those responsible. Those who darkened the sky.”

Alicia smiled easily and answered loudly enough for anyone near the bridge to hear her. “We’re vampire hunters, ma’am. This is what we do.”

The Jarl shook her head, accepting with a smile Alicia’s confident answer. Again she turned back toward Mistveil keep. Talia looked from Alicia to the departing ruler of Riften. There was a lot about tonight she was still getting used to.

The two messengers quickly began talking Alicia’s ear off and she, without hesitation or the slightest bit of effort, had each of them calmed and nodding in moments. Alicia walked with them, sending them off into the market as she went before turning to whatever new figure had appeared at her side while she was in the middle of speaking. It was a never-ending stream of fires, famine, and all the raving madness that came from such a terrible night. For Alicia, it seemed, the battle never truly ended.

For the Dawnguard, there was a small moment of rest. Talia caught sight of small groups gathering near the canal or around the fire of a burning market stall. Some were drinking, others embracing, some were laughing, others crying, and still others were simply staring off into the darkness. For them, for one brief moment, it was over.

With Alicia tending to her people and no one around trying to knife her, Talia found herself strangely alone. She felt profoundly out of place, and it was not until she realized where she was standing that she understood why. As Alicia made her way deeper into the marketplace, Talia found herself drifting off toward the shadows as she always did, making her way to an out-of-sight little corner between an overturned cart and the edge of the canal. It was quiet and shadowed enough that she could almost forget everything that had happened during the night. She could have slipped over the side and vanished into the Ratway. It would take less time to disappear than it was taking to think about it.

And yet she did nothing. It felt a bit like finding a high card after a poker game. It just didn’t matter anymore; it couldn’t matter anymore.

She peeked over the side for just a moment, amusing herself by picking out the handholds she would have taken and eyeing the filth-covered sewer pipe she would have scrambled through. Her fingers ran along the edge of her coat, absentmindedly clutching at the sleeves and, for the first time in her life, cringing at the thought of getting such fine clothing dirty. There really was a lot about tonight that would take some getting used to.

Well, if she was not going to leap over the side and vanish from Riften’s stage, what was she going to do? She had spent the night being thrown from one horrible extreme to another, trying to keep herself alive as everyone around her died. After Alicia had taken her in, she had found herself filling the role of bodyguard. It was a pitiful attempt but she liked to think she had done alright for her first time. Alicia hadn’t tried to send her off to the dungeons, after all, and that was certainly something to be thankful for. Was that what she should devote herself to now? Protecting Alicia? She had never been formally inducted into the Dawnguard. She still didn’t even know how to handle herself in a proper fight. She had survived the night because of her knowledge of Riften and sticking to the shadows while others did the fighting for her. How much good would she really do in the next fight? She couldn’t hide forever. She couldn’t get lucky forever.

The thought of Alicia marching out the front gates and actually looking - on purpose - for another fight left her shaking her head. But, if she had learned anything from the long night fighting with her, this was exactly what Alicia was good at. She would get the Dawnguard to march, find whoever was keeping the sun from shining, and make sure they got what they deserved. It was just what she did.

Before long, Talia found herself wandering back among the Dawnguard. She still felt nervous being around so many armed soldiers, especially since most of them still walked with weapons drawn, but it was not as bad as it had been. Seeing them up close, sharing food with them, hearing them talk to each other; it all made them feel more human. It made her feel a bit more human, too.

She ended up stopping near where the wounded had been placed. The station had been set up during the battle so it was further away from the town center than it should have been, its stacks of stretchers piled up against the wall of a popular tavern. The tavern itself actually backed up to the canal, and those outside were laid almost shoulder to shoulder to fit in the pinched space. Men and women moved about with water and bandages, seeing to every wounded soul in turn. They had a strange way of moving. It looked like they were rushing from person to person, someone’s life always hanging in the balance, but they never looked rushed. They always had time to stop and say a few words, giving sips of water or adjusting the coverings against the unnatural cold of the day.

The sound of men running behind her forced her to move to the side and watch as two more soldiers, these ones wearing the Riften city guard uniforms, hauled a man wearing mercenary leathers toward the inside of the taverns. Lanterns had been placed to light the front of the building and warm firelight spilled from the inside to illuminate the faces of those lying on the ground. When the men reached the front, someone wearing a bloodstained apron waved them inside. She looked like an apprentice butcher and the parallel made Talia wince as the poor, groaning man disappeared inside.

“Water.”

The voice came from below her and Talia nearly jumped. She looked down to find another wounded guardsman, his helmet removed, looking miserably up at her. One of his eyes had been taken by a sharp blow to the face and crusts of red and brown now stained both his skin and uniform. Someone had taken the time to put some of the old market canopies to good use and the rain that now washed down the fabric and into the canal.

“Please. Water.”

Talia knelt, reaching to her side to take a waterskin from her cloak. It hardly had anything in it and was probably even older than Talia herself but it was better than nothing.

Even as she pulled the stopper free, a part of her wanted to just walk away. There was an even darker part that wanted to kill him where he lay. It wasn’t like he cared about her. If this was any other day, if she had been the one begging in the gutter and he had been the one standing over her, what could she have expected but a sharp kick?

Before the thoughts could take root, she tipped the water to his lips. Most of the water spilled free, doing little more than wetting the dried blood around his mouth, but the look he gave her was one Talia had rarely seen in her life. It made her very uncomfortable.

“Thank you. Bless you.”

Talia said nothing. She wanted to say something, maybe ask him what he thought about a thief tending his wounds, but nothing came out.

She placed the waterskin back in her cloak and looked down at the stone in misery. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It didn’t matter that he was wounded; he was still a guard. She wouldn’t have done this for one of Valen’s thugs and there was very little difference between one of them and this man in front of her. Far better to just pick through his pockets, take his gold, and at least make something good of what had happened. Just because he was breathing his last didn’t mean she had to suffer, too. She would still need to eat tomorrow.

It was damned stupid. “Your arm’s broken.”

The boy nodded. “I’m alright. Hurts a bit but… who are you?”

“No one.” Talia was already undoing the bandage on his arm. Whoever had done this had completely missed the break and had just bandaged him up as fast as they could. It wouldn’t heal right like this. Probably wouldn’t heal at all. “Here. This will hurt but your arm will feel better once it’s done healing.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak but the words vanished as Talia started to work.

“You’re alright. I’ve done this before. More than I’d care to admit. We’ll get you all fixed up.”

It was easy enough to get a splint together. The hard part was making sure everything was in the right place when she did her work. He did not like that part but, once the worst was past, he began to breathe easier. He looked exhausted. Small wonder, since he had probably been fighting all night with the rest of them.

“Done this before, huh?”

Talia nodded, her fingers moving on their own as she wrapped his arm again. “Mm-hm.”

“You a cleric, then? A surgeon?”

Her tongue danced on the roof of her mouth as she thought about her answer. She should tell him. It would serve him right. “Doesn’t matter,” she said at last. “Let’s just say yes. I’m something like a cleric.”

The boy smiled. “Well, bless you, then, and whatever god you serve.”

Her hands fell away from the boy’s arm, her work done. Rather than meet his gaze, she looked him over for any other wounds that needed attention. She wasn’t like Alicia and she wasn’t much good with a sword, but she didn’t want to go back to the Ratway. She didn’t want to disappear again.

Mercifully for her, the boy’s eyes began to wander, fixing on the sky and closing a moment later with a pained wince. What god Talia served had not given her the gift of healing magic so she found herself unable to help him any more than she already had. She stood, looking toward the bright light now filling the tavern’s doorway. Inside there would be true clerics, people who had mastered the art of healing both with medicine and with magic. They would be able to do what Talia could not. Again, her role was one of minor helper, but she was not sure she minded that so much.

As she watched, a priest of Mara entered the tavern, clutching fervently to his amulet, healing light streaming from between his fingers. He looked haggard but determined, just like the rest of them. Talia caught herself smiling. Mara would be a poor god for her to serve. She wondered who would be the most appropriate to pray to. She had never heard of a god of thieves, no patron to pickpockets that could move shadows or muffle steps. It was just as well; she wanted to start over. She would always be a thief, that was true, but she did want to be something more after last night.

The hair on the back of her neck began to stand up. A lifetime of looking over her shoulder had left her very good at sensing when she was being watched. She turned around cautiously and instantly found herself turning red.

Not a dozen paces away, Alicia was watching her work. “A cleric, huh? Should have known you had a patron.”

Talia tilted her head, watching the smile grow on Alicia’s face. “Why?”

“After all you brought us through last night, you’re too lucky not to have some god watching out for you.”

The memories brought a bitter taste to her mouth. “Actually, after last night, I’ve been wondering which temple I burned down.”

Alicia’s smile stretched a bit as she winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of what happened.”

“It’s alright.” Talia folded her arms, pulling her old cloak around her and trying her best to smile. “It was… a long night. For all of us.”

“It was.” Alicia nodded down to the boy Talia had been helping. “May I ask where you learned to do that? Had that been me, I’d have been as much help to that man as a wagon without its wheels. It looks to me like you may have saved his arm.”

It was a pretty dramatic way of putting things but Talia did not argue. She was too busy shuffling and weighing her words. “It’s just something I picked up over the years.”

“In the Ratway?”

She nodded. “I saw it happen to a lot of people. It’s hard enough trying to sneak enough food to get by; it’s a lot harder with only one arm. One day, a traveller was in town. I think he must have been a surgeon. He saw one of the beggars with his arm limp, lying in the gutter, and he stopped to help. I was lucky. I got to watch him fix the arm.”

Alicia looked surprised. “You watched it happen once and that was enough?”

“I got a lot of practice after that.”

“Ah.”

Talia tried to shrug off the sudden look of sympathy. She wasn’t used to it and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “It’s just the way things are - or were, I guess. Everyone in the Ratway was desperate, yeah, but everyone gets desperate in their own way. A lot just looked out for themselves. They went up to the streets, begged or stole or tried to find work, came back at night and just left it at that. Some of them even tried to help each other. But then you’d have some who got angry. They couldn’t go up and hit the guards because they’d get killed, so they went looking for someone smaller. People like that, you just have to hide from them. Otherwise you end up like that.”

Talia nodded down to the man with the broken arm. Alicia was quiet for a moment. Her eyes were still fixed on Talia, her face still covered in a mask of sympathy. It was enough to get Talia’s feet shuffling again. She wasn’t here looking for pity, she was just telling the truth.

The familiar sound of boots on pavement went largely ignored until Alicia’s eyes flicked over her shoulder and her lips twitched, her expression suddenly going sour. Talia turned, and then quickly turned away, to find Thorvald lumbering up behind her. He was looking at Alicia, his arms folded. Talia looked to her, too, waiting for her cue to wander off.

“You said you had practice. Does that mean you helped people down in the Ratway? The ones that got hurt.”

Talia blinked, hesitating as Alicia kept talking like Thorvald was not even there. “I - well, yes, I guess. Mostly it was on one person. Ava. She didn’t - a lot of people saw her and - I had to help her. Sometimes. It wasn’t much.”

For a moment, Alicia’s eyes flicked back to Talia, and she did not mind the look of sympathy so much. It would be a long time before she could talk about Ava and not want to claw her own eyes out. “For him, and for her, too, I’ll bet it made all the difference in the world.”

Talia looked to the ground and decided to give her boots a thorough examination. She mumbled something in response but did not trust herself to form any real words.

“The people here will need someone with talents like that,” Alicia continued, taking a step closer to Talia. She rested one hand gently on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as she did. “You’ll do these people a lot of good. The Jarl already loves you. Spend some more time helping her people and before long she’ll have a statue of you in the market. This could be a fresh start for you.”

Thorvald could be heard grumbling behind her but an icy glare from Alicia stopped whatever he was about to say. It was strange to think about. That was exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? She could have a home here, with four walls, a roof, and a bed that didn’t smell like stale urine. She could have a fireplace and carpets and windows. She could probably even have her food delivered to her. That was what people did when they were - wait, was she a noble, now?

“I can’t.”

Alicia frowned. She leaned a bit closer as though somehow her words had lost their meaning in the small bit of air between them. “Where we’re going, it won’t be safe. I have no idea what we’re going to find outside these walls but I don’t imagine it will be friendly. For all we know, Riften is now the last living city in Skyrim. The darkness we go to face is an old and terrible thing, so terrible that, in order to face it, even Isran saw we needed the help of a vampire.”

Talia looked up at that and Alicia gave her a smile. “I’ll tell you all about it when we return, but it’s true. The best the Dawnguard had to offer, a woman far stronger and more dangerous than anyone I’ve ever seen, went off with this vampire to try and stop this from happening. What happened to them I don’t know but clearly this was too much for them. I pray they still live, and if they do they will need our help in stopping this. I cannot stand aside and let them fight this war on their own. But you, Talia, you can. You’ve done more than enough for us. I cannot ask you to risk everything again for a fight that is not yours.”

The words rang true and Talia knew they did. It would have been so easy to walk away. She would be risking everything and she could not even say why she was doing it. Her little dagger would not make the difference in a fight and what guile and cleverness she could offer in a battle ended sharply at the gates of the city.

And yet, she could not leave. She smiled up at Alicia. “With what the Jarl said earlier. You said it made me a Thane here?”

“They won’t ask you to defend the city, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alicia answered with a chuckle.

“So maybe a noble, then?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Talia shook her head. That settled it. “Then I’m going with you.”

The look of pure, helpless frustration that crossed Alicia’s face almost brought Talia to laughter. “Why?”

“I can’t be a noble! Nobles have names. They get introduced to other nobles. What are they supposed to say when they announce me? I’d be Lady Talia of the Ratway. That’s a terrible name for anyone.”

Alicia, completely at a loss for words, just shook her head. She looked like she was about to thump her over the head, put her in a sack, and leave her here just to get her out of the way. Talia beamed. She liked this new part of her, the Dawnguard soldier, such as she was, rather than the thief from the sewers.

“You finally find someone useful and already you’re trying to turn them away,” Thorvald grumbled from behind Talia. Alicia quickly fixed him with a furious glare. “If you’re intent on getting us all mangled out there, at least give me some quality help. This girl knows her way around some nasty wounds, I’ll bet. Keeping her here is just going to make my job harder and you’re already good at keeping it damn-near impossible.”

If looks could kill, there would have been nothing left of the angry medic, and Talia would probably have lost an arm just from standing so close to him. Alicia’s teeth were nearly audible in their grinding. “If I’m making your job so difficult, I’d expect you to be about it more hurriedly. You’re wasting precious moments bothering me with this and I’m still not even sure why you’re here.”

“I am here because your minions have told us to assemble in front of the tavern. I’m told you have words of inspiration for us? Isran -”

“Shit. I forgot about him.”

Thorvald chortled. “And I thought you hated me. Well, let it never be said that we agree on nothing. Yes, he’s still alive, and he is very interested in what you have to say. Probably wants to give you his job. You’re the one who saved the city, after all.”

The way he talked about it made Talia’s skin crawl. She had saved the city. He wasn’t the one standing atop a pile of rubble, rallying the Dawnguard for one last charge. She had been the first one into the battle, not him, and none of them would be here if not for her.

“I wouldn’t dream of pulling you away from your work,” Alicia said with a growl. “Tend to the wounded. I’ll have a runner sent to you with the abbreviated version of the speech. I’ll leave it to you to decide how to answer. Now unless there’s something else?”

Thorvald shook his head. “No, please, I’m already here. Lift my spirits, Captain. My assistant and I eagerly await your command.”

Talia turned, expecting to find another Dawnguard soldier standing beside Thorvald. Instead, she found him staring right at her, a very self-satisfied look in his eye. Before she could say anything, Alicia barked a derisive laugh. “Your assistant? Very well. When I have no need of her, she will lend her talents to you and the other medical officers. I have no qualms with that. However, her counsel has proven much too valuable to me to relinquish her entirely to you, so I suppose I’ll just have to promote her. She will report directly to me. When I have need of her, which I expect I will quite often, she will be by my side. Are we clear on this?”

What reaction crossed Thorvald’s face was lost as Talia stared blankly at Alicia who, for her part, paid no attention whatsoever to Talia and glared over her shoulder at Thorvald. His response came almost too quickly.

“Good enough for me. If you’re done splitting hairs, Captain, I’d suggest speaking to your soldiers. They’ve been fighting for two days now. Maybe give them a rest before asking them to fight for two more.”

Alicia’s face became unreadable for just a moment and Talia felt sure she would boot him into the canal then and there. Truthfully, if Alicia wasn’t going to do it, she might give it a try herself. There were a lot of wounded around here, their limbs poking out from their blankets at strange and frequently unnatural angles. He could always trip on his way back to his station.

Without a word, Alicia turned and marched back into the market. As soon as she did, Dawnguard soldiers began shouting at each other to quiet down. Talia guessed the ones being so loud were the ones in charge because everyone else, upon seeing Alicia approaching, had quieted down almost on the spot. The air was filled with calls for silence and absolutely nothing else. It seemed even the racket from the far end of the market had died. Riften guards, those not busy carrying wounded comrades or other supplies, stopped what they were doing to gather and listen as well. They formed small clumps near the other stalls, eyeing the vampire hunters that had brought their town so much trouble from the safety of the shadows.

Talia crept forward on her own, standing apart from the Dawnguard and keeping to the edge of the tavern wall. The last of the lantern light spilled into the street beside her, just out of reach and just far enough not to obscure her vision. From where she stood, the light of the lanterns ended and the light of the fires began, mixing with the deep red of the wounded sun and giving her a good view of everyone in the market. As she eyed the guards gathering to listen, those faces that she could make out appeared to be set in curious expressions. Many were solemn and a few even dared to look hopeful, but there was no anger in their eyes.

The Dawnguard had gathered in ranks, assembling in an impressive, if somewhat impromptu display of discipline. All stood at the ready, and though Talia could not see their faces, she knew each of them held nothing but respect in their eyes.

Alicia stopped a dozen paces ahead of them. She turned slowly toward them, keeping her eyes on the ground as she did. She looked solemn, stoic, and professional. She looked like the Captain of the Dawnguard. Her eyes remained on the ground for one heartbeat, then another, and another. She took her time, and every soldier in the market waited patiently for her to begin.

Even the lifting of her eyes was commanding, and when she began to speak, her calm and reverent tones carried to Talia’s ears as though she were standing right beside her.

“Today, I stand before you, humbled by your bravery. Riften owes all of you a debt it can never truly repay. You, and those who fell beside you, those who shielded you with their very lives so that we could live to see this day. This hour belongs to them. I know I would not be here if not for their selfless acts of sacrifice. It is always the best of us who fall, who bear the greatest burdens, and on whose shoulders we ever stand as they raise us above ourselves. I would ask you to remember them, and to spare them a thought before I speak my piece.”

The already silent crowd somehow became more still. Talia found herself sinking a bit deeper into the shadows as she thought of Ava and all she had done for her. She had freed her from Valen’s thugs, lead her to safety in a city filled with vampires, and finally given her very life to save her when Valen had found them in that alley.

Talia pulled the coat a little tighter and tried to swallow the knot forming in her throat, taking some comfort in the fact that most of the Dawnguard seemed to be doing the same thing.

She watched Alicia scan the crowd in silence, waiting a long moment before finally continuing. “Riften has been made safe for now. By their sacrifice, there are men and women inside the walls that lived to see the dawn. The battle for this city is over. And yet much remains to be done. There are families in need of food and shelter, warmth and peace of mind. This task is by no means a small one, and it is of the greatest importance. The Riften guard fought bravely and in so doing lost many of its own. Beyond this loss, fishermen have lost their boats, innkeepers their roofs, blacksmiths their forges. There is much to rebuild, and the city of Riften will need all the help it can get in the coming days.”

“That is why, as of this moment, I am ordering the Dawnguard to remain in Riften. You will defend the city walls, and those who dwell within, until the war has ended, and we are sure that no vampire invasion will again threaten these homes.”

There was a low murmur of confusion. Talia peered forward, doing her best to get a good look at what was happening in the crowd but their backs were still to her and those around the canal looked as confused as she was.

Alicia held up one hand, quieting her soldiers with the slightest of gestures. “This is no small thing I ask of you. Your duty is to this sacred ground, where so many of our friends gave their lives against the forces of darkness.”

As she paused, another voice called from the crowd. It was a woman’s voice, one Talia had not heard before. “And what of you, Captain?”

Alicia turned, her face the stone mask she always put on when talking to the Dawnguard. “This war is not yet over. There are other villages beyond the wall. With the battle here finished, we cannot know how many scattered to these smaller townships to wreak their havoc there. These people will need our help. So, too, will those still living in the other cities, from which we have still heard nothing. We cannot know how they have fared, what aid they may require or what they can give to us, without someone making the journey.”

Several voices began to speak up but once more Alicia quieted them with a gesture. “This journey is not a safe one. The road outside is dangerous. I will make it alone, if need be. But -”

“You’re not going anywhere without me, ma’am!” the voice from before called out again. This time Talia noticed a shorter woman with blonde hair near the front of the crowd stepping forward and turning to face her people. “The lot of you can stay here, but I won’t have you wandering the roads without your eyes. My scouts will be with you, two steps ahead, wherever you choose to go. Isn’t that right?”

A chorus of voices shouted back, loud and even boisterous in their calls. More joined in after them. More soldiers stepped forward, claiming loudly that they would not be left behind while their captain went off on her own. People that had been sitting lifeless in the shadows after two long nights of fighting now stood and cheered and beat their shields in such a display of loyalty that Talia was nearly swept up with them. Even in her corner, she found herself smiling.

Alicia was not smiling. She still wore her usual mask, her jaw set and her eyes determined. There was no trace of the woman Talia had come to know.

Then she looked closer, and in the strange flickering of the morning light, she saw the faintest glimmer on her cheek. Talia watched, transfixed, as Alicia stood her ground and wept in silence. As the cheers coursed through the soldiers, some began to sing, striking up a marching song that was soon carried by every voice in the market. Guards watching from the sidelines began to tap along to the beat, watching with almost jealous eyes that they could not join in. Those not in uniform rushed with smiles on their faces, hope restored to their hearts for the first time since all this began.

Alicia saw all this, was the center of all this, and wept. Talia watched as the woman saluted, waved her hands to dismiss her already disordered ranks, and turned toward Mistveil Keep. She doubted anyone had noticed the tears, but she had. Even as she walked through the front gates of Riften and, for the first time, set foot outside the walls of the city that had been her home, she knew it was a sight that would stay with her for the rest of her days.


	46. A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Approaching Solitude, Eira and Serana remember the start of their adventure together

The hills west of Solitude were anything but welcoming. The deep, rocky canyons of the Reach were slow to be forgotten and crept toward the mountains as sharp ridges that made the journey through them a deliberate and painful thing. What was a rolling hill on one side would turn to a saddle with sharp drops of a dozen feet on either side. It was nothing like the badlands around Markarth, but if you happened to be racing against the end of the world, it was the most maddening place you could be.

The darkened sky was not helping. It should have made everything easier for two vampires forced to travel during the day. There was no sun above to burn and blind them. They could run as long as they wanted, the only limit the strength of their own two legs. This was a world made just for them, and Serana could not have hated it more.

Just ahead, Eira was leading the way as they crossed the last of the low country and came to the base of the mountains. The hills here grew with sparse trees and gnarled shrubs that looked to be sprouting from the rock itself. Serana plodded forward, constantly battling the desire to rush ahead and face her father as soon as possible.

She took a moment to glare at the twisting, tortured canvas of red that now covered the world above them. It seemed to press down on them, taunting them as they ran. They should be going faster. They should be doing more. People were dying, and they were only walking.

It wasn’t true and Serana knew it, even as she caught herself lurching forward into a jog. It would do no one any good if she arrived at her father’s door out of breath and unprepared, her magic spent to arrive a few moments sooner. Even at her best, she was not sure she could battle her father and win. He would be at the center of his power, safe within his castle walls, surrounded by his loyal followers, and it would be death to underestimate him. Serana would need all her cunning and all her skill if she wanted to have a chance of stopping this.

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Serana took a deep breath to still the nervous pounding in her chest. There was no question of turning back. She had to do this. There was no one else in the world who could.

She nearly ran smack into Eira as she crested the next ridge, only stopping when she saw Eira’s feet appear in front of her own. Lost in her own thought, she had not been watching where she was going, let alone watching for danger, and had left Eira to pick up the slack. Her gaze snapped up, a spell appearing in her hand before she realized Eira was not tensing for battle but had just slowed down to let her catch up.

Serana looked around nervously, expecting her father’s men to appear at any moment. “What is it? What do you see?”

Eira did not answer right away, waiting until Serana looked back to her before smiling. “I was just thinking about the first time we crossed these mountains. Do you remember?”

It took her a moment to even understand the words. This was not a time for idle remembrances. They were trying to save the world. People were dying. “I guess. I think I know the way from here, if that’s what you’re asking. The path is up ahead, through those rocks.”

A quiet chuckle reached her ears as she tried to press ahead. “It is. That’s not what I was talking about, though.”

The laugh made her slow for a moment as Serana tried to imagine what she could be talking about. Eira slowed, too, eventually coming to the stop at the top of a low hill. From here, Serana could see the spires of Solitude’s Blue Palace in the distance. Even against the darkened sky, they looked proud and regal, the symbol of Imperial might and order in the far-flung province of Skyrim. Or so she imagined, from what Eira had told her.

That memory, of Eira’s awkward lessons of history, of her strange but endearing fumbling as they left Dimhollow crypt and travelled toward her family’s home, actually brought a smile to her face. Serana found herself turning to gaze fondly at Eira, the foolish girl who had helped a vampire find her way home.

“I remember you getting us lost,” Serana said easily, somewhat twisting the events of the past and watching happily as Eira rolled her eyes. “I asked you to help me find my way home and what happened?”

“I was never lost.” Eira folded her arms, shifting her feet and looking over Serana’s shoulder toward the mountains. “Besides, it was your home we were trying to find. All you did was just point off toward the mountains and tell me it was somewhere over there. What was I supposed to do?”

Unwilling to admit she had been just as lost as Eira, Serana put on an overconfident smirk and took a few languid steps toward her. “I gave you very clear directions. Besides, you’re thinking about it wrong. Maybe I knew the way home already and I just wanted some company. A little snack for the road.”

Eira stood her ground, narrowing her eyes and returning Serana’s smirk. “You could have said as much. It would have taken a load off my mind. I remember wondering when you were going to finally get it over with and kill me. And I was right, wasn’t I? You actually were the death of me.”

“I warned you when you bought me this, didn’t I?” Serana ran one hand along the edge of her cloak, the one Eira had given her so long ago and the one she had almost never taken off since. “You should have gotten the matching gloves. It might have kept you around longer.”

As Serana ran her hand along the silver trim, Eira glided over to stand at her side. Serana caught her looking the cloak up and down as she did. “I think I survived you pretty well, all things considered. I’m fairly happy I survived you waking up in my lap.”

Serana laughed but did not answer. It was not something she thought about often. She had been trapped in that box for thousands of years. That she had not fed on Eira the moment she smelled her blood or run her through with her dagger the moment she felt her hands on her was a very lucky thing. She was not sure how her story would have ended if Eira had not been there to help her. Leaving Dimhollow and finding her father would have been no trouble, but she would have been very much alone in this world. She did not like imagining what she would have done on her own.

Eira had now cocked her head, staring at the bottom of Serana’s cloak. Tattered, burned, and covered in mud, the edges showed exactly how much they had been through in these short weeks. She knew without looking that her own blood stained its cloth. There was probably some of Eira’s blood there, too.

“We’ve been through alot together, haven’t we?”

Serana had to smile at that. “Enough for a lifetime, I think.”

“Two, in my case.”

“Very true.”

Eira looked back toward the mountains. “We’re almost there. One last fight.”

It was not a comforting thought, really, but it did lend her a little peace when she said it like that. They were about to face their most dangerous foe. Even Serana, in all her years of fighting, could think of only a few things that could be worse than this. Her skin crawled as those memories tried to break through the surface and she felt her stomach twist as she forced them back down. She would not give in to them again. Not now, not today, and not with Eira beside her.

There was the distant sound of thunder rumbling over the hills as Serana composed herself. “I’ll be glad when this is all over. Once we… once we face my father, that will be the end. We’ll find a way to change the world back. Then we can just leave.”

A quiet sniff came from Eira’s direction. “I hadn’t even thought about that. How do we change the world back? Do you think we can just…”

As she trailed off, Serana caught her eyes darting to the ground. There was no point hiding from it. Not when they had no other choice. “Kill him? I don’t know. If we kill Harkon, if we kill my father, maybe the ritual will be broken. Or maybe that is only the beginning. There may be another ritual to return the sun to the sky. We may have failed already and the world will be stuck this way forever. I have no idea. But I do know that, if there is a way, we will find it. Whatever it takes.”

Eira looked to her with a solemn but hopeful smile. “I know you will.”

Serana blinked in surprise. She nearly reached out and slapped her when the words finally sunk in. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not getting away from me that easy. You already died once - no, twice! - and look how that worked out for you.”

Eira’s chest bubbled with laughter and smiled more broadly but remained quiet as she did. “It’s strangely comforting, knowing that even in death I can’t get away from you.”

“It should be. I waited a long time to find you. I’m keeping you around for a good, long while.”

Serana looked Eira in the eyes before looking her up and down. She had been through even more than Serana had. Her cloak was still torn from where Dexion had stabbed her, her armor and clothes beneath even now stained with her blood. And that was only what Serana could see. She could not even being to guess what reading the Elder Scrolls had done to her mind. She had gone through so much in so short a time for a woman she barely knew.

She deserved a rest.

More thunder rumbled over the hills. Serana was relieved to hear how distant it still sounded. She did not relish the thought of climbing these mountains in the rain.

Eira was smiling. “I think I’d like that.”

Serana, hiding a smile most unfit for a vampire sorceress, tilted her head. “Did it sound as though I was giving you a choice?”

“Don’t ever change.”

As Serana glared, the roll of thunder came again. This time, Eira looked off toward Solitude. “They’re still holding out.”

The words to ask what Eira was talking about had nearly passed her lips when Serana at last recognized the sound she had mistaken for thunder. It was the sound of magic being unleashed upon the world, and it was coming from the distant spires. Serana watched for a few moments and could now pick out the distant flashes of light that marked the casting of spells.

Serana nodded. “We should hurry. Come on. We’re almost there.”

She began jogging toward the mountains, making her way across the hill and following the dirt path that would lead them through the rocks ahead.

Eira did not follow.

She had not gone more than a few paces before realizing that she was alone. Eira watched her in silence, a sad smile on her lips. “I’m not going with you.”

Serana turned in disbelief. “Why?” When Eira did not answer, Serana began walking back toward her. “Eira, please. I cannot do this alone.”

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t. I need you with me.”

As Serana’s voice became more desperate, Eira’s only grew softer. “You go to face your father -”

“Which is why I need you!”

“I’ll only get in the way. You know that.”

It was all Serana could do not to throw Eira over her shoulder and carry her off. “Please. I know it will be dangerous but you’ve faced danger before. You’ve slain dragons, Eira. Without you…”

But Eira was shaking her head. “I can do more good for them than I can for you. You’ll be fine. I know you will. Whatever happens, I know you can do it. You’ll find a way to bring the sun back, and I’ll be here waiting. Hopefully somewhere with a bit of shade, but we can’t have everything, now can we?”

“This is not the time for jokes, Eira.”

“If you think that, you don’t know me at all.”

Serana glowered. “I do not fear the coming battle. I fear only for you. I want you with me where I know you’ll be safe.”

Her voice turned consoling. “Would I be safe in a fight against you?”

Serana tried to answer but before she could, Eira rolled right over her.

“Your father is a powerful sorcerer. You will need everything you have if you’re going to survive this, let alone to bring him down. You can’t be fighting him while worrying about me. I’ll just get in the way.”

Even as Serana argued, “If you want me at my best, you must come with me. Let me fight knowing you’re beside me,” a part of her knew that Eira was right.

She could not imagine what would happen if Harkon did something to Eira. It made her furious just thinking about it. She would rip him apart limb from limb if any harm came to her. Perhaps that should have been their strategy; let Eira go in front, stub her toe on the castle steps, and have Serana pull the whole place down around them in unbridled rage.

It was a foolish idea, but one that at least made her spirits rise ever so slightly. She wanted Eira safe. She considered just casting a spell on the woman or having her drink a bit of sleeping poison. Just enough to keep her out of the battle until it was over.

“What are you going to do instead? If you tell me your plan is to lie low and stay safe, I may well agree to this.”

Eira laughed. “I will, but only after you agree to do the same.”

They were not a very bright pair. Serana refused to let Eira’s laugh infect her and instead stared pleadingly at her until she nodded over her shoulder at Solitude.

“They’ll need my help down there. I can do something against vampires and more than that against whatever enthralled creatures they’ve brought with them.”

Solitude had been visible for most of their walk and it had been one of the many reasons Serana had kept her eyes on the road. The huge pillars of smoke rising from every wall made her think the whole city was nothing more than windblown embers and cold corpses. The thought of it had kept her walking quickly but, if the fight was still raging, she could not imagine the chaos now consuming the streets.

“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To save as many people as we can?”

Serana wanted to reach out and strangle her. “Eira -”

“If Solitude falls, what we see here will be only the beginning. Everything that comes after, even if we succeed, will be so much worse without the Empire here to rebuild. The people here will need help just feeding themselves after tonight. They’ll need food, shelter, and more than anything they’ll need someone to look to. They’ll need to know someone is protecting them. And that’s to say nothing of the dragons.” Eira’s boots made no noise as they trampled the red-hued grass. Right in front of Serana, she stopped, gently taking one of Serana’s hands in hers. “You have your fight. I have mine.”

Her words failed her, and Serana stood there in silence. She had to say something. She had gone so long saying nothing at all.

Eira’s hand squeezed hers. “I’ll come back. Once this is over, I’ll find you. I promise. Alright?”

Serana felt her throat closing up as her tongue tried to twist itself into a thousand words at once.

More thundered boomed in the distance, and this time Serana caught sight of a blinding flash of purple. She could almost feel the magic being cast from here. And Eira wanted to rush right down into it. She was rushing right down into it.

Eira started backing away down the hill. Her hands began tugging at Vengeance, loosening the sword in its scabbard. Already she was starting to pick up speed as she ran. “I’ll come back. I promise. Just go.”

“You made me feel safe.”

It was like a slammed door. The words forced themselves from Serana’s throat, bursting forth and stopping Eira in her tracks. She stood there, staring at Serana, completely stunned.

Before she could say anything and steal the will from her, Serana forced herself to keep talking. “After everything that happened to me… everything that Bal did to me… I was sure that was the end. I wasn’t going to be normal anymore. I’m still not. I know that. And it’s not even that. It’s more. I’ve done terrible things. I know that I didn’t have a choice in all of them, but I know, too, that does not matter. I made my choices. I walked into his domain, knowing well what would happen. It was my own fault.”

“Serana -”

She raised one hand before her, pleading. “These words do not come easily to me and I fear that, if I stop now, I will never find them again. It was my fault. All this is my fault. But even knowing that, seeing all the things I’ve done and knowing that I can never make up for even the smallest part of it, I want to try. I want to try because you make me believe it’s possible. You make me feel like I have a choice again. Like I’m alive again.”

As she spoke, Eira slowly drifted toward her, and Serana could only smile. “There. I said it. I’ve been thinking it for a long time but I’ve never been able to put it into words. And now you’ve made me say it out loud. Happy?”

Eira began walking back, slowly, as though moving too quickly might disturb such a delicate moment. Serana waited in silence. She had already said too much in her mind. At least Eira was giving it the proper amount of stunned silence.

“I can’t lose you, Eira. I can’t. Not after all this.”

Her breath caught in her throat as Eira came closer, and closer, until she was right up against her. The warmth of her breath rushed along her neck as she let out a quiet laugh. It was enough to turn Serana’s face an undignified red, one she hoped the unnatural light would hide. The flush only grew deeper as Eira’s fingers wrapped around her own, her other hand resting gently on her hip.

“You won’t.”

It wasn’t like the first kiss. She expected nothing ever would be. It was more than enough to set her heart pounding in her chest, and for the briefest of moments, she was able to forget where they were. It was just the two of them, alone in the world, without a battle to fight or a world to save. It was so beautiful a lie that it should have lasted forever.

All too soon, Eira pulled away, and the distant, booming thunder returned. Serana forced her eyes to open once more, the first thing that greeted them the distant flash of battle.

She wanted it to last longer. She wanted to stay here, tell the world to wait just a moment and let them have their time.

“I love you.”

The words were out before she could stop them. Serana’s eyes widened almost as much as Eira’s.

But, of course, Eira recovered more quickly. “You’re not going to die, Serana.”

“That’s hardly the point!”

Eira was quick to a smile. She cocked her head, examining Serana in the strange light. Serana, had all of her not been waiting on the words she was longing to hear, might have thought the whole thing completely absurd. What was she waiting for? Was she some piece of art on the wall, picked over for some hidden meaning in a slightly different light? The answer should have been as quick and easy as it had been for her.

For how long it had taken her to admit it, she also might have realized that she probably deserved the answer she got.

Silence. “Well?”

“I’ll tell you -”

“Do not say it.”

“When I return.”

Serana coughed as a loud, impossibly-frustrated laugh tore from her lips. “Gods, I hate you.”

“I know. I’m a lucky woman for that.”

“At least you’ve the decency to admit it.”

Eira, her hand having fallen from Serana’s waist, now rose awkwardly to scratch at the back of her neck as she backed away. Serana folded her arms and put on her best scowl.

“This isn’t goodbye.”

Serana’s scowl deepened. “That doesn’t mean -”

“If you want to hear me say it,” Eira said, letting her hand fall and tilting her head in an easy smile. “Find me. Come back to me.”

Nothing could be easier. “I will. That’s a promise.”

Eira, looking entirely too pleased with herself, began to back away. Serana watched as her expression turned to one she knew too well. She looked ready. It was the sort of look that challenged the whole world to a test of strength and told it plainly it would lose. Whatever happened, whatever came next, she would stand her ground.

As Serana watched her back away, framed by the burning sky and the smoking towers of distant Solitude, she could think of nothing more beautiful, nor imagine anything quite so tragic.

“I’ll be waiting.”


	47. Darkwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia and the Dawnguard venture out to find any survivors and put an end to the vampire threa

Skyrim had a way of keeping travellers on their toes. Every rock, every tree, every unkempt swatch of tundra grass seemed to be hiding something with large teeth and a larger appetite. Alicia had learned at a young age never to go exploring on her own and it had taken many years before youthful stupidity and the call of adventure got the best of her good sense.

It felt strange, being out here again, and not just because the whole world had turned red. The last time she was out here, she was joining the Dawnguard. The patrols with them, the flight over the mountains and down into Riften, none of that had felt the same. The patrols had never left the valley and after the battle at the fort, everything had happened so fast she could no longer remember most of it. All that remained were exhausted flashes scattered between a thousand terrible moments. Even thinking about it now she could almost feel the a weight dragging her shoulders down. If she let it, it might have been enough to bring her down altogether.

Instead, the weight fell away, and Alicia found herself smiling once again at the small, mouse-like shadow still clinging to her side. She had always looked so terrified in Riften, like every shadow could harbor a dragon, and that had been inside the city walls. Alicia had been afraid that, once they left, she would start to have second thoughts. She was actually so convinced it would happen that she had already planned on losing four of her best soldiers to escort the girl back to safety.

But, in spite of the vampires, in spite of the strange surroundings, and in spite of the whole world being bathed in bloody light, Talia was beaming.

It was an infectious smile. When she could stand it no longer, Alicia reached down and mussed the girl’s hair hard enough that she gave out a surprised yelp. It did wonders for her mood. She even caught some of her Dawnguard watching from the corner of their eye, smiling as Talia’s grin infected them, too.

Talia looked up at her and tried to glare. It was barely noticeable behind her still-beaming smile. “Well? What do you think? Is it everything you thought it would be?”

If the girl had not been smiling so broadly, it would have seemed like the stupidest question in the world. Instead, she just nodded. She even let out the smallest laugh as she did. Alicia wondered if she had ever seen anyone happier.

“Yes. It’s just… well, it’s so big, isn’t it? It just goes.”

Alicia found herself chuckling along with her. “It does. It really does.”

“It’s so strange. I keep expecting to see a walls. Or guards. But there’s nothing.” She threw up her arms, gesturing wildly out toward the sparse forest surrounding them.

The sudden show of energy was startling from someone normally so quiet. It was like she was looking at a completely different person, someone who had been left for dead in the Ratway and only now had been allowed to breathe.

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” Alicia said, pointing off to the east as they walked. “Off that way is Morrowind, all volcanoes and Dunmer if you believe the stories. The Velothi mountains are full of old ruins, haunted forests and mountain paths. They say the stones there remember the Red Mountain’s eruption and the refugees that came through, never to be seen again.”

If it was possible to scare Talia with ghost stories, Alicia was not the person to do it. She shouldn’t have been surprised, knowing what the girl must have gone through in her time, but it was still worth a shot.

For her part, Talia beamed, giggling almost childishly at Alicia’s dramatic flair. “How frightening.”

“You should show a little more care, thief. The ghosts of the dead have little to do in this world but hunt for the souls of the living.”

“Then I’m truly lucky to have such brave protectors around me, aren’t I?” Talia folded her arms and continued to grin. “What else is out there?”

Alicia, grinning and pointing up toward Windhelm, was suddenly very aware of her own inexperience. She had been away from her family for barely a few months. The extent of the world that she had seen amounted to a few dirt paths, Fort Dawnguard, and a few mountain paths between there and Riften.

Luckily, she had learned in her time as captain that she was very good at faking it. “The city of Skyrim’s kings, Windhelm, with its vast port always brimming with ship bringing in goods from far and wide. White sails billowing from dawn to dusk, drifting off toward the city of Winterhold and the distant College at the edge of the great northern ice flows. Beyond lies Dawnstar, and the Imperial throne in Solitude, the Blue Palace looking out over the clear-blue bay.”

Having run out of interesting coastline, Alicia looked down to find Talia thoroughly captivated. She nodded eagerly, seemingly wanting a detailed description of all Skyrim. Alicia suppressed an awkward gulp and did her best to continue.

“Off to the west is Whiterun. I’ve heard there are Mammoths there, wandering the golden tundra in great packs led by giants as tall as the city walls.”

“I’ve always wanted to see a giant.” Talia’s eyes had gone even wider, now sparkling with quiet wonder.

“You might get your chance soon enough.” Alicia nodded to the northwest. The horizon was now dominated by the low mountains that ringed Riften’s northern edge. “I would like to see Whiterun, make sure the people there are safe. They’re good folk, or so I hear.”

“Whiterun,” Talia echoed.

“And, eventually, Solitude. The Empire will have soldiers there. They can help us. Windhelm and the Stormcloaks are nearer at hand, but…”

She noticed Talia flinch as she mentioned them, trailing off and leaving the thought unfinished. It was just as well. She had never much liked Ulfric. The man had plunged her homeland into civil war and now fancied himself a king. That didn’t strike her as very noble.

“I’ve heard a lot of stories about them.” Talia’s voice was so soft it reminded Alicia of when they first met in that horrible alley.

“So have I. That’s alright, we don’t need them anyway. They’re not vampire hunters.” She gave Talia a wink to get her smiling again. “I’ve never put much faith in them. My father was in the Legion. I suppose I’ve carried that with me.”

“You father?” Alicia felt herself cringe as Talia’s eyes met hers again, so bright and attentive. “Is that where you learned to fight?”

“A little. Mostly just showed me which end was the pointy one. He taught me a thing or two but I think he wanted a farmer’s life for me. If you think I’m good with a sword, you should see me with a shovel.”

Talia laughed, as did a few of the nearby Dawnguard. Surely they were having their own conversation and not eavesdropping on their captain’s private moment. She looked about for something heavy to hit them with but, lucky for them, they were no nearby farmsteads.

“If he didn’t want you to fight, why did he let you join the Dawnguard?”

Alicia snorted. “Because he didn’t. I, uh, ran away.”

“Oh.”

The look on poor Talia’s face. It wasn’t hard to read, even knowing as little about the girl as Alicia did. This woman had a family and had run away from it? Everything this girl had ever wanted and Alicia had thrown it away for the dream of the great adventure.

Alicia looked ahead and was overjoyed to find something on the horizon. The outline of Shor’s Stone now appeared between the trees, its inn apparently undamaged. That was probably a good sign.

One of her forward scouts was moving slowly down the column toward her. She could see a few more lingering outside the mining town, crossbows ready but still pointed at the ground. A few more were sifting around what looked like an old fire pit and, despite how many Alicia could already see, no one was paying much attention to the bodies.

“It’s just as well,” Alicia said, flagging down the scout and trying to smile to Talia. “I was a terrible daughter. Soldier! What do you have for me?”

A young man with short black hair and the scraggly beginnings of a beard clinging to his chin and neck. His youthful look contrasted strongly with his heavily gashed helmet, the front split open over the eye socket. He probably should have gotten another one, but soldiers were a very superstitious bunch, and that very much included Alicia herself. The armor had already deflected one killing blow. In a strange way, that meant its use was spent, and no more swords would be coming its way.

“Someone’s trying to put us out of a job. There’s dead vampires everywhere.”

A few of the bodies were close enough for Alicia to make out the typical gray armor that the vampires tended to favor. “I wish them all the best. My feet hurt from all this walking. Any sign of who did it?”

The boy smirked. “Not a trace, ma’am. They knew their way around a spellbook, though. Looks like a good number of them were taken by fire and lightning, the rest by sword wounds.”

“That’s good news. Maybe we’ll get lucky, find them on the road. Stormcloaks patrol these roads, don’t they?”

“I don’t think this was their work.”

“Why is that?”

“Pardon me saying, but it’s too good for them. Too clean. The cuts, they’re all right where they should be; in the heart, over the throat, that kind of thing. There’s no slashing or hacking. Just... “ The boy made a few sharp gestures with his hand that Alicia took to be clean cuts with a sword.

Alicia tried to peer further into the deserted village, hoping to see more moving than just her people. “Anyone stick around to tell us what happened?”

“Not a soul. We haven’t found any bodies, either, save for one poor bastard lying in the mineshaft. I’m guessing the lot of them got out quick but he got left behind.”

As they drew closer, Alicia noticed Talia starting to wander toward the edge of the path, peering between soldiers in the direction of Shor’s Stone. It was hard to read her face, but it wasn’t the awestruck expression she had been wearing earlier.

From what Alicia could tell, there was not all that much to see. “So you’re telling me vampires attacked Shor’s Stone and - how many were there?”

“There’s at least a dozen, ma’am, plus more of those dogs. There were some bandits with them, too, so it’s hard to say.”

“Alright. There were at least enough of them there to handle a bunch of sleeping miners. But someone stopped them. And it wasn’t Stormcloaks or guards or Companions.”

The boy actually perked up a bit at that. “Could have been the Companions, actually! Sword work like that comes from a lifetime of training. And the magic, well, they could have been with someone from the College.”

Alicia held up a hand to keep him from going further. “I’ve heard enough. Give the town another once-over and rejoin your party. I don’t want to spend any more time on a ghost town. The vampires here were killed, and the people were saved. That’s what matters. Can you tell me where they went?”

“North, just up the road. There’s plenty of fresh tracks to follow. Scout Ricca only left me and a few others behind while she pushed ahead with the main group.”

“Smart woman. Good work, soldier. Find me if you discover anything else.”

Turning to salute the boy, Alicia’s fingers had already touched her forehead when the boy dropped to a slight bow and scuttled away toward the buildings. That was not what she had been expecting. When had that started? Was that normal?

Talia had re-appeared beside her, still looking toward Shor’s Stone but no longer needing to shuffle around to get a good look. They were coming up on the edge of the town, the trees thinning and giving them their first glimpses at what lay between the buildings. Everything was arranged in a haphazard circle, the inn and a functional blacksmith on one side, the miners’ buildings on the other. Just up the hill was the entrance to the mine, the single path leading straight down between the buildings and meeting up with the road just ahead.

Her scouts had been right. There were easily a dozen bodies lying in the dirt, some of them in better shape than others, some of them wearing bandit furs, and still others that were not human at all. She even saw what appeared to be a large, stone gargoyle lying sprawled through the remains of a cookfire. Its head was split clean in two, spewing dust across the ground.

“What do you make of it?”

When she didn’t get an answer, she turned to find Talia gone. She wasn’t dodging between soldiers on the path, or at least not where Alicia could see, and she wasn’t sticking to her shadow. She was entirely too good at doing that. What was the point of staying close to the Dawnguard if they could not find her to keep her safe?

That was assuming she even needed to be kept safe. The girl had the luck of the gods themselves.

Alicia looked up and down the road twice more before giving up with a long sigh. “Fine. Well, I’ll just be here, talking to myself until you get back. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

A few of the nearby soldiers gave her strange looks. She gave them what amounted to a very menacing squint. She knew she was being crazy. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t make normal friends.

Shor’s Stone was practically out of sight by the time Talia returned, her presence at Alicia’s side forming like a shadow.

Before Alicia could say anything, she saw Talia was beaming, and her well-planned lecture was reduced to a rather terse “What?”

The girl held up what must have been a fist-sized sapphire. Alicia had no idea what the thing was worth but with the light gleaming off its pristinely cut edges, she felt her mouth begin to fall open.

A few nearby Dawnguard were staring, too. “Where did you find that?”

Talia grinned wider. “By that stone thing. The one in the fire? This was in the dust.”

Alicia reached out toward the gem and Talia handed it over like a prize. It must have been worth hundreds of gold, if not thousands.

“Is there a patron of thieves? A god you pray to?”

Talia’s grin faded in favor of a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know.”

“If not, you should start getting a church together. What kind of thief just finds this stuff lying on the ground? That’s how legends get started.”

“Not really. Most thieves wouldn’t find something like that on the ground and go running off to give it away.”

She had a point. Alicia gave her a judgmental smirk. “Good thing you changed careers.”

“Who said that?”

Alicia palmed the sapphire and laughed. “You’ve already given this one up. Unless you find another one in a hollow stump or something, I’d say you’re doing better with the Dawnguard than as a wandering pickpocket.”

“I can get that back, you know.”

“Oh? Can you?”

“Look behind you.”

Alicia rolled her eyes. “I’m not -”

The gem was gone. She looked down at her hand and there was nothing. It was just gone.

The thief standing next to her gave her the most innocent smile she had ever seen in her life. “You.”

“Lose something?”

“How did you do that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alicia turned to the soldiers marching with her to discover that suddenly all of them were very interested in the surrounding forest. Only two of them would meet her eyes. “You saw her take it. Didn’t you?”

The two soldiers, a man and a woman walking on either side of her, both gave her blank looks. “Didn’t see anything.”

“Honestly, ma’am. Took my eye off it for one second and it was just gone.”

Talia beamed. Alicia did her best but, despite all her effort, a smile began creeping over her face. “Fine. Keep the damn thing. You’ve earned it anyway.”

“You’re too kind, ma’am.”

Alicia whirled. “Not from you. None of that saluting or yes ma’am, no ma’am. It’s just Alicia.”

Talia cocked her head, regarding her with a long and thoughtful look. “Alright. Alicia.”

Shaking her head, the very beleaguered captain of the Dawnguard tried to turn her attention back to the road. There was a lot she should have been paying attention to. She could see her patrols moving off to the sides, picking their way through the brush, screening them against any surprises. Besides them, there was remarkably little movement. The wildlife must have been just as confused as everyone else.

Looking closely, she could see a pack of wolves huddled against the rocks, all sitting up but not moving. Rabbits stayed perfectly still under whatever brush they could squeeze beneath. The birds had all gone silent, and even looking up into the canopy Alicia could find no sign of them.

Eventually her scouts returned with more news. Smoke rising from another mining town. Darkwater Crossing lay in the shadow of the mountains, where the hot springs and primordial badlands of the Eastmarch met the steep cliffs of the Rift. From what they could tell, there were survivors there, and though no vampires had struck the camp just yet, from the racket they were making, it probably would not be long.

Eastmarch lay in a basin between Windhelm and Riften, looking rather like the gods had scooped a great bowl out of the earth at the moment of creation. The forests that ringed Riften and the southern edge of Windhelm seemed to skirt around its edges but could not quite find purchase enough to reclaim the area. It was a place home to a few hardscrabble hunters and hardheaded adventurers and absolutely nothing else. Even the giants seemed to avoid in for the most part.

As they made their descent, a winding mountain path giving them enough space to walk comfortably if a bit more carefully, Alicia felt the hair rising on the back of her neck. It did not take a genius to see the tactical stupidity of remaining in a place like this. It was something out of every general’s nightmare. If anyone was watching the basin, the Dawnguard’s survival would not remain secret for long.

A part of her snarled in defiance at that. Let them come. Let them see. They had survived. Riften had survived. Let the world know, and let the vampires have their revenge. Better they hunted the Dawnguard than those hiding in places like Darkwater Crossing.

“Hey. Alicia?”

With surprising softness, Talia’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “What is it?”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry. But you were talking earlier. About the Dawnguard.”

“That sounds like me. What was I talking about.”

“Just how you joined. You said that you had family.”

For the second time today, Alicia failed to suppress a wince. “Yes.”

“You ran away.”

“I did.”

Talia looked up, wringing her hands and looking far more ashamed than she should. “Can I ask you… what was it like? Before you did?”

She would have given anything for a vampire attack right now. She looked around, noting with some relief that the nearest Dawnguard were probably out of earshot if she spoke quietly. “There isn’t much to tell, really. We were farmers. My father inherited the land from his father, just the way his father had taken it from his own parents. It was hard work; kept me from getting fat and lazy, though, so I guess that’s something. Growing cabbages isn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but we managed fine.”

Hands still fidgeting in front of her, Talia looked more uncomfortable than she had first saved her on that bridge. “But you left. Did something happen?”

The memory struck Alicia with such a wave of disappointment that she actually groaned aloud. Talia recoiled as she did and Alicia quickly put out her hand. “Sorry. It’s not you. Just remembering what happened is a bit embarrassing. We were in town selling some of our crops when a woman came through. She wore the finest cloak I’d ever seen. She had a bow with her and a sword. All the guards hailed her by name and greeted her like family. She stopped in the center of town to talk with some of the merchants. Said she was on business from the Jarl. She was off to slay a giant. I snuck away from our stall and listened in. My father said I’d have to walk home if he couldn’t find me but I did it anyway. I had to see her.”

“Was she one of the Dawnguard?”

“No, she was probably too clever to join up with these misfits. She was on her own, living where she pleased, as she pleased, no one but the wind to guide her. I thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. I remember watching her regale the guards with her stories for hours; almost until the sun went down and the market closed. Hearing her talk about the things she’d seen, about Draugr ruins and temples on top of mountains and the haunted spirits of the northern tundra, I couldn’t think about anything else.”

Alicia paused, stepping over a bit of fallen rock and remembering the argument she’d had with her father that night. It had been such an ugly thing. The things she’d said to him made her ears burn even now. What she would not have given to have taken it all back.

“I left that night. Stole off in the darkness with nothing but an old pack and a rusty sword. Honestly, I’m damned lucky nothing found me on the road. I couldn’t have handled a pack of wolves, let alone a highwayman or a mountain troll. I’d heard about the Dawnguard before, just like everyone, so I knew how to get to the fort. I found my way there and, well, I think you know the rest.”

Talia had been listening intently to the whole story, eyes never leaving Alicia’s. She probably thought she was an idiot for leaving her family behind and she would not have been wrong for thinking so. It was a stupid thing to do. It was probably the stupidest thing Alicia would ever do.

“Will you go back?” Talia asked quietly. “Once this is over?”

Alicia smiled. “Planning for victory already? I like it. I don’t know. I don’t know if I can go back.”

“Sure you can. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Saving everyone we can? Is that why we came this way? To find your family?”

The smile on her face began to slip as her mouth began to go dry and her heart began to tremble. “Actually the farm was a bit to the south of here. We were closer to Ivarstead, west of Riften, by a bend in the Treva River.”

Talia looked over her shoulder. They could hardly see anything from here but Alicia knew exactly where the farm would be. Even with the smoke still rising over Riften, it was impossible to miss. Just beyond the massive plume of grey that marked the city, off to the right and almost pathetically small in comparison, was another plume of jet black smoke.

“Should be right over there.”

 

Darkwater Crossing was smaller than Talia had imagined. It was nothing like Riften. There weren’t even any walls. There was just the mine and its workers. It was something she decided she liked. If everyone worked in the mine, no one was left hiding and stealing and living underground.

The town occupied a small depression in the land, its tavern backing up to a small hillside while the miners’ shacks were pressed up against a small lake. One of the first things she did was wander over to the muddy banks and peer into the water. Tinged with red from the unnatural light, the water was not exactly what she had imagined, but she could still make out a few small fish swimming about near the surface. She resisted the urge to splash at them with her boot.

It would have been beautiful, but the war always intruded. From what conversations she had overheard, the people of Shor’s Stone had come here after being attacked during the night. Small canvas tents had been set up in a cluster near the mine’s entrance and what appeared to be heavy wooden barricades were being built in front of the door to the shaft.

They were not the only strangers in town. While Talia walked the water’s edge, Alicia and a few other Dawnguard were making their way toward the tavern. She had not asked, but it didn’t seem like the right place for a thief to be lurking around, so she had excused herself to wander the camp. As she wandered around the edge of another miner’s home, she peered over her shoulder at the figures now camping outside the town. Dawnguard soldiers were digging trenches and setting up for a midday meal, the sound of their shovels scraping and their axes chopping filling the air around the village.

Now, making their way through the ranks of vampire hunters, came the others. There were only two of them but, from the way the Dawnguard talked about them, two was more than enough to make a difference. A man and a woman, each wearing very strange and unfamiliar armor, strode proudly through the parted ranks before the town. Some of the Dawnguard saluted. Others cheered. It was more than enough to draw Talia’s curiosity.

The woman wore some kind of animal fur around her shoulders, the pelt draping down across her chest and the leather tunic she wore as armor. She might have looked unremarkable with her high boots and weathered trousers, but even from the way she walked it was easy to tell this was someone special. Her face was splashed with war paint, lines dragging across her eyes and forehead like the claws of a great bear. She wore a short blade at her side and carried a light shield on her back that covered a quiver bulging with arrows. In one had she held a bow, her grip on it almost lazy. When her eyes flicked over the village, Talia felt them linger on her, even hidden in the shadows as she was. It would be very hard to hide from someone like her.

Beside her was a man in heavy plate with a massive broadsword slung across his back. With every step he took, Talia waited for the ground beneath him to tremble. His arms looked like they had been pulled from a giant, the shining silver armor looking almost childish when strapped to his hulking frame. He moved with surprising grace, despite how heavy all that metal must have been, and Talia found it strange that she could not hear his footfalls when he walked.

The pair of them made their way toward the tavern, the guards parting for them as readily as the Dawnguard had. Only through the excited whispers of a nearby family was Talia able to find out who they were.

“The Companions,” a little girl whispered, her voice tittering with excitement. “The Companions are here. They’ll save us. You’ll see.”

A boy’s voice answered her. “Mama said the vampires won’t come back with them here. I hope they do. I want to seem them all get chopped up.”

“They won’t get chopped up,” the girl argued, her voice changing from excitement to frustrated as she explained something so simple it should have been obvious. “That’s Aela. The Huntress? She’s going to get all the vampires before they even see her. Just _zip, zip, zip!_ All dead.”

“Quit poking me!”

“You’ll see. I’m going to be just like her when I grow up. And I’ll be a sorceress, too, like the one from Shor’s Stone.”

“That’s no fair. You can’t be like both of them.”

The bickering continued as Talia continued to watch the strangers approach the tavern. She found herself moving forward to get a better view, creeping through the space between a two of the shacks almost to the edge of the town square. The miners were mostly keeping to the fringes, those that had not holed up inside their own homes huddling around small fires.

One of Alicia’s companions, the blonde-haired one that had spoken up during Alicia’s speech in Riften, stepped forward to greet the Companions. She hailed them, giving them a small bow with her fist clenched to her heart. The Companions made small bows in return, the movements little more than a tilt of the head as they walked. Alicia did the same when she greeted them on the threshold, speaking a few words to each of them. She had her Captain mask on again, hands clasped behind her back which was now stiff as a board.

The door to the tavern opened and the blonde-haired woman beckoned to the Companions. Alicia watched as they passed, exchanging words with them and with the older man Talia knew as Lieutenant Vahar. As one by one the warriors entered the building, Talia began peering around for a window. There were plenty to choose from, so eavesdropping shouldn’t be a problem. The roof was solid enough, so she could creep up there, but that would probably draw attention in broad daylight. The Dawnguard would be watching closely.

While she was examining the rest of the building, she almost missed Alicia turning to look over the village, her eyes stopping as soon as they found Talia. She actually jumped, not realizing she had stepped so far from the shelter of the shacks. With one hand, Alicia now gestured for her to join them.

She didn’t know what else to do. Talia, looking eagerly for some shadow to disappear into, shuffled awkwardly across the clearing and climbed the stairs to join the captain.

“If you don’t mind,” Alicia said as she reached the wooden porch. “I’d like you around for this.”

“I don’t, but what for? I don’t - there aren’t sewers or walls here. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen. Keep an eye on everyone, on the room. I’ll bet you’re a lot better at that than anyone of us.” She glanced around sharply. They were hardly alone but no one save the blonde woman would have been close enough to hear Alicia’s sudden whisper. “I trust you, I trust the Dawnguard, I don’t know these people. Okay?”

Talia felt herself start to straighten up. “Yeah. Alright.”

“Good.” Alicia smiled and gave her a friendly wink. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She made her way inside, passing the blonde woman and moving through the door to enter the building without waiting for Talia to answer. It was a good thing, too, since all she would have managed was an awkward laugh and maybe a slight blush. The woman at the door gave her a fond smile as well, deepening the red in her cheeks. She was not used to this at all.

As the door closed behind them, the strange red light replaced by more familiar lantern light within the tavern, Talia noticed that this was not a tavern at all. There was a huge table set in the center of the room with space enough for at least two dozen people, a large hearth of red brick just beyond, and a few benches along the walls, but there was no bar. Looking at the other side of the building, Talia noticed two large beds pushed up against the walls, along with shelves, chairs, and all the various comforts of home scattered about the open space. This was someone’s home, and that someone was important, given the size of the table.

She promptly forgot to wipe her shoes as she entered. Nobles were the same everywhere.

Except now she was noble. She hesitated, Alicia getting a bit further ahead and stepping up to the table before Talia kept walking, refusing to go back and clean the mud off her boots. She was new at this. And she still didn’t have a name.

She reached the table and watched as a Dawnguard soldier jammed a dagger into the wood, pinning down a large parchment at the corner. A large map of Skyrim now stretched over the surface and Talia could already see colored markers being placed here and there. As Alicia greeted those already standing around the room, Talia snuck a bit closer to the table. Seeing Riften as just another dot on the map felt very strange. Her whole world, everything she had ever known, did not even merit being placed at the center of the map. She found the perspective both exhilarating and strangely offensive.

It was far too tempting to hop up onto the table and pour over the map on hands and knees. She could have spent hours just looking at the parchment, reading the names of places she would one day see for herself and wondering at what exotic mysteries she would find when she got there. So engrossed was she with the dots and the script beside them that she completely missed what Alicia said upon approaching the table.

“I am glad to hear it,” one of the Companions answered. The woman with the bow was doing the talking and had taken up a position on the far side of the map. “And it is good to see that you have survived the battle. How fares your fort? We have heard ill tidings in our travels.”

“Fort Dawnguard is no more. I am sorry to say that we were not strong enough to resist the vampires when they came for us.” Alicia had moved up to Talia’s right, standing almost shoulder to shoulder, while her Dawnguard followers remained behind her near the wall. Talia felt herself beginning to turn red. She moved to back up but Alicia’s hand stopped her, resting on her shoulder and keeping her from running off. “We fled through the mountains to Riften and found shelter within the walls. When the vampires came for us, we were joined by those in the city and were able to stand our ground.”

“Riften still stands, then?”

“It does.”

The woman smiled and a great sigh of relief surged from her lungs. “That is good news indeed. Apologies, I am speaking out of turn. I am Aela, of the Companions, and I come with my brothers and sisters to see how far this plague of vampires has spread. I know your name, Captain, but I am unfamiliar with yours.”

She gestured across the table to her left and Talia noticed for the first time a huddle of men in tattered armor. Some she recognized as Riften guards, their armor and equipment a bit different, but it was the two men in Stormcloak blue that made her want to turn Quiet and hide.

It was one of the guards who spoke first. “I suppose I speak for those of us in Darkwater. Everything was quiet last night up until the whole village of Shor’s Stone came pounding on our doors. We didn’t know what to make of it. We still don’t.”

The Companion, Aela, cocked her head and smirked. “You don’t waste words. Good. We’ll get to that in a moment. First, Captain, what can you tell us of Riften?”

“The walls still stand. The gate is shattered and you won’t find a roof not burned or broken but its people still live. When we left, the guard and a small group of Dawnguard stayed behind to watch over them. With the way things are now, I would like to have everyone in Darkwater moved to the city. It isn’t safe here, especially not if what you told me is true.”

“I agree.” Aela gestured toward the map, drawing her finger along the bottom edge of the dot with Windhelm scrawled next to it. “A few of us decided to creep up north before checking things out down here. If my eyes did not deceive me, and they never do, there are hundreds of vampires outside the walls. There are a lot of people sitting here right now. If they don’t already know we’re here, it won’t be long before a few of them get hungry and start looking for easy prey.”

The men in tattered armor looked less than eager to be moving. “Riften? That’s a long ways off. Shouldn’t we just stay here? Yous said yourself they’re gathered around Windhelm. If they come for us, we have the mine. We can bar the door and hold up inside. It’ll take a battering ram to get through those boards.”

“They have magic,” Aela replied glibly. “And a few thousand thrall. Go into that mine and you’ll never come out.”

Alicia was less blunt. “We can provide you with safe passage south. You have my word on that. I will detail some of my best to see you safely behind the walls. I’m sure the Companions would be eager to do the same.”

“Are you?” Aela leaned forward, a gleam in her eye as her gaze fixed on Alicia. “We came here to hunt vampires. I have been meaning to ask you, Captain, what you are doing outside your walls? You have said you fended off their assault, and yet we did not find you on the field of battle. Where is it that you’re going?”

“To hunt vampires.”

Aela actually grinned as her mammoth-sized companion shook with a single, gruff burst of laughter. Alicia allowed herself a small smile, which was nothing more than a quirk at the edge of her lips.

“We believe we know where the vampires are coming from. The one who darkened the sky is known to us and it is our duty to put him in the ground before he and his monsters take any more innocent lives.”

The guards and their Stormcloak counterparts gave each other nervous looks. Talia watched as what amounted to a short conversation passed between them through expressive and badly-concealed motions and facial expressions, something that was very impressive when she considered both the Stormcloaks were still wearing their helmets.  
Aela, on the other hand, could not have looked happier. “Just point us their way.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Alicia placed one hand out to Aela, whose eyes were now widening in disbelief, and turned toward the guardsmen. “The people here will need to be escorted safely home, and the walls there will need more eyes watching from atop them. I would feel much better knowing you marched with them.”

She could practically feel the relief pouring from their bodies. “Thank you,” one said from beneath his helmet. “I mean, yes, we can do this. Riften won’t fall while you’re away.”

Aela snorted, the sharp blast of air reminding Talia of a blacksmith’s bellows, or what she had always imagined a charging boar might sound like. “And you’ll need help killing these vampires. If they can put out the sun, I think you’ll need all the help you can get.”

The other Companion at last leaned forward, his voice rumbling like thunder before a storm. “Our order will not be remembered as those who turned and fled when darkness fell upon the world. If there is a fight to be had, the Companions will be there.”

The rest of the table went silent, Alicia nodding in silent appreciation, before Aela muttered under her breath. “Bit dramatic, are we?”  
Another deep rumble escaped the man’s chest but he said nothing in response.

Talia turned toward Alicia, watching for what would happen next. Again, she looked back toward the wall where both the old man and the blonde woman were standing and wondered if she should join them.

“So,” Aela said, leaning down on the table and grasping the dagger at the corner of the map. “Where are we going? Where is our last hunt to take us?”

Alicia gestured with one finger toward the corner of the map labeled Solitude. “An island off the coast. The place is called Castle Volkihar. We understand the vampires have made a home there for generations. It will be a difficult fight.”

“One that will take us by Solitude.” Aela seemed to consider that, nodding with satisfaction before turning back toward Alicia. “That’s good. Those walls are strong. We’ll take the bastards in the back while they’re busy with the Legion. So, how did you come by this information? I’ve never heard of any islands north of the shore and I’ve stalked the length of Skyrim ten times over.”

“One of our best was sent to find them early on. She managed to find herself one of the vampires that lived there, made friends with it, and tried to stop all this from happening. It would seem the task was too much for her, but she did manage to tell us where they were coming from.”

Aela seemed to straighten at the mention of this person who had befriended a vampire and her attention had only grown sharper the more Alicia spoke. “This woman; she wouldn’t happen to be the strong, silent type, would she? Favors the bow, tough as nails and about as pleasant?”

Now it was Alicia’s turn to look surprised. “You know her?”

“Eira was my Shield Sister, a Companion to rival the best. She was in Whiterun during the battle.”

“She still lives?”

“She does, as does her vampire friend.” Aela smirked as Alicia straightened. For the first time since they left Riften, Talia saw a light in Alicia’s eyes. “They saved a lot of lives last night, probably mine among them. Letting her go off on her own was foolish but I was bound to protect Whiterun. Now that it no longer needs protecting, there is nowhere I would rather be than tearing out vampire hearts beside her.”

Aela’s fist thumped against the table, jabbing the dagger back in place. “That settles it! If one of our own already rides toward this battle, she will not do so alone! Vampires be damned, we’ll cut through every one of them to reach her side when she needs us.”

Talia looked from the Companions to Alicia and back before craning her neck toward the remaining Dawnguard. They all appeared eager, Alicia showing a hint of fire in her eyes that belied the worry tugging at the edges of her mouth. She cared for her people, even if those people wanted a fight as badly as these Companions seemed to.

To everyone else, she gave no sign of these second thoughts. “This seems out best chance to strike. Our enemy will be vulnerable, or as vulnerable as we should expect from something so powerful. His army failed at Riften and the rest of his forces remain scattered across Skyrim. He will not expect us to strike back at him so quickly.”

“We can confirm this,” Aela said, again gesturing around the map and moving her finger along the edges. “The forces at Solitude should be enough to hold the vampires at bay for a time. Winterhold will likely fall but the College will surely endure, as will any who manage to escape inside. Markarth will stand, as do Whiterun and Riften, it seems. Unfortunately, that leaves us with the other settlements. I hate to say it, but I have little hope for the likes of Dawnstar or Morthal, and I think the cemeteries of Falkhreath will be all that remains of the city once this night is over.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room regarded those small dots on the map and the innumerable lives they represented. It was not a pleasant moment. Talia found herself shifting closer to Alicia, waiting for her to say something inspiring.

“The best thing we can do for them is put an end to this,” Alicia said quietly, folding her arms and letting her head hang for a moment. “If we can find a way to end this darkness, we stand to strike a crippling blow to any vampire still fighting in the cities. The same way they darkened the sky in our hour of need, we will light it up in their moment of triumph.”

Aela was nodding but looked uncertain. “And you’re confident you can do this? Undo whatever curse was placed on the sky?”

“I know the artifact we need to recover, yes. It’s a bow, and I believe we will find it on the body of the one responsible for using it against us.”

The sharp bark of laughter and the sudden gleam in her eye made Aela look every inch the determined hunter. It was an intimidating sight to be sure. “Then that’s where we go.”

Alicia nodded and leaned over the table, plopping one finger gently over Riften. “We need to get the people of Darkwater back to Riften safely, first. With those we have available,” she nodded toward the guards. “I believe they will make the journey safely through the woods behind us. What concerns me is the force amassed outside Windhelm. If they decide to turn around, they have a good chance at overrunning these poor people.”

“You want to attack them first?”

“Not if we can help it. We’re already risking everything on one card. I would rather not expend ourselves on a battle that does not need to be fought.” Alicia studied the map for a moment, staring long and hard at the little black dot that was Windhelm. “No. We can form a screen, keep the vampires from getting past us while the rest of the people here make for Riften. If the vampires attack, we hold them off on our terms, then push toward Solitude.”

Aela inclined her head toward Alicia. “Your people made a lot of noise coming through the forest. They will know we are here.”

“Then the decision was made already. My Dawnguard will start digging in, scouting the terrain for strong points and preparing for the coming blow. Can I ask you and your Companions for aid in this fight?”

“Well, we didn’t come all this way just to watch!”

Aela still looked as eager as a wolf on the hunt and now the hulking man beside her began to loom over the table the same way, shifting under his armor as though readying to pounce. Alicia looked back to the Dawnguard standing near the wall. Both of them gave looks of approval, with the woman giving her a wink and a smile. She noticed for the first time that the sorceress Illia had been present for the entire conversation, leaning silently against the wall. Now that Talia could see her, it was obvious she was spoiling for a fight. Everyone looked ready except the guards. They just looked happy to be getting out of the way. At the moment, Talia found it hard to blame them.

“Very well. Let’s not waste any more time. Let’s get these people to safety and get on with winning this war. We’re only going to have one shot at this. Make sure to make it count.”

 

Darkwater Crossing emptied out more quickly than Talia thought possible. She had expected them to be attached to their homes or to be very reasonably terrified of the unnatural sky looming above them. Instead, everyone seemed eager to be up and doing something, even if that something was running away.

She stood next to Alicia and watched the line of carts and pack-laden miners trek up the path to Riften. Somewhere to the north, she could hear the Dawnguard digging in to await the coming vampires, their shovels clanging against the hard rock that often lay just beneath the surface. Beyond them were hundreds, maybe thousands of vampires and their thrall. No one seemed to have heard anything from Windhelm. The entire city could have fallen, its people turned to ravenous monsters.

And this was not even the end. They still had to go all the way to Solitude, to the lair of the creature that had darkened the sky, and slay it all before being overrun by the husks of those they were trying to save.

“You can still go with them.”

Alicia was not even looking at her but staring off toward Windhelm, her eyes fixed on something only she could see. Annoyed that her mind was so easily read, Talia clenched her jaw and balled up her fists.

“No. I can’t. I don’t want to hide while all of you are fighting. What if I could help by being there and instead I’m stuck back in Riften, sitting on my hands?”

She looked over toward Alicia but got no response. Not even a twitch of her lips. “I know. I just feel better offering you the chance.”

Talia squinted at her, doing her best to peer through the woman’s eyes to see what was really going on back there. “It’s not much of a chance. I know I can’t do much, but if I can do something, anything, to help I want to be there to do it. And if I die doing it, then that’s… that’s alright, I guess.”

“Don’t say that,” Alicia muttered, frowning as at last the mask fell away.

“It’s true. I’m not trying to get myself killed, believe me. I’d like to see what happens after all this. But if I don’t help, and all of you get killed because I wasn’t there to do something, I don’t think I’ll last very long in Riften, now will I?”

Alicia’s head actually turned and now she glowered at Talia. It took her a moment to realize she was right, and after she did, the look lost much of its weight. “I suppose not.”

Talia tried to put on a comforting smile. She wasn’t sure if it worked or not, everything being as horrible as it was. “You can’t fight this whole war on your own.”

“I can damn well try,” Alicia groused, putting on the most dignified, soldierly pout Talia had ever seen.

“Well then it’s a good thing we won’t let you.”

Alicia was silent for a moment, turning slowly until she was looking southward toward the people of Darkwater Crossing and their long path to Riften. Her eyes did not linger on them, however, and instead found their way to the skyline, where Talia could still see the column of smoke rising over Riften. She knew better than to think that was where she was looking, and Talia found herself staring at the smaller cloud beside it.

The leather of her gauntlets creaked as Alicia clenched her fists. She looked like she was on the verge of going mad.

Talia, with all the care of a woman trying to calm a snarling dog, reached out and touched her shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself. You can’t save everyone.”

“I could have.” Alicia, her voice a deep rumble that rose from her chest, reached one fist up and pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “If I had been thinking clearly, I could have sent someone to get them, pull them inside Riften’s walls before the battle. I could have saved them.”

“Riften was a nightmare. And you couldn’t have known there would be so many. That they would come for the whole world tonight. Not telling them was keeping them safe. You know that.”

“A whole lot of good it did.”

She shuddered with a series of deep breaths, her eyes closed tight against the world. Talia left her hand where it was, trying to find a place to rest her fingers that would draw all that pain away. All it did was make her feel awkward, helpless, and more useless with each pitiful motion.

“I don’t know if I could have saved them,” she said at last. “I could have taken the Dawnguard west when we first left Riften. We might have been able to stop whoever was burning the farm. Who knows, we might have gotten there just in time to save someone. Anyone. That’s what I wanted to do.”

Almost afraid to ask, Talia hesitated a long moment before doing so. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because that’s what Alicia would do. I can’t be Alicia right now.” She turned to Talia, giving her the most heartbreaking look she had ever seen. “These people need their Captain. The world needs the Dawnguard. And until that is no longer true, I can’t - Alicia can’t be the one leading them.”

Talia wished she did not understand. It made a certain, horrible kind of sense that could not be put into words. It was just how it had to be.

“We’ll go back.” Talia forced herself to put on a confident smile. “When we’re finished here. We’ll go find them.”

“Talia -”

“They probably saw the smoke over Riften and knew something was wrong. They probably found a place to hide. They owned that farm forever, right?”

“Well, yes, but -”

“Then no one knows it like they do. Once this is over, we’ll go back. We’ll find them. Okay? If anyone can find them out there, it’s you.” Talia took a step closer to Alicia, giving her a stern look. “That means you have to live through this. Otherwise I’ll go back on my own.”

She pulled the gemstone she had found from one of her many pockets, its polished edges sparkling in the light. Alicia actually shuddered with silent laughter, her face breaking into a smile upon seeing it.

“And I’ll take everything that’s not nailed down.”

“It’s a farm! What are you going to steal?”

“Plates. Chairs. Cows. Did you have cows?”

Alicia rolled her eyes, reaching out to muss Talia’s hair. Again. She let it happen, despite how annoying it was. “Fine, fine. I suppose I have to come back from this, don’t I? Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

Talia grumbled and started untangling the mess of hair around her eyes. She wasn’t good for much out here, but if she could help Alicia by threatening to steal the family silverware, she would happily do it.

The mood didn’t last long. The Dawnguard had soon settled in to whatever cover they could dig out for themselves, their helmeted heads peering from their trenches. She could see their strange weapons poking out with them, all of them trained north toward Windhelm. Bands of three or four darted between rocks or crouched in the shadows farther north. Some were already hurrying back to join their comrades.

Beyond them, far in the distance, hidden by the shadow of clouds across the wounded sun, Talia watched as the darkness began to move.


	48. Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira arrives at Solitude, putting herself at the center of the battle for the Blue Palace

Ewind heaved his shield forward, slamming his weight against the oncoming thrall and recalled how much easier this had been during training. The bandit, or what had once been a bandit, howled as she was lifted off her feet and tossed backward onto the stone, her sword flying from her grip to clatter across the ground and add more clamouring to the din all around them. What should have come next was a thrust downward into her exposed chest. Instead, a loose rock beneath his boot and a growing fatigue in his muscles sent Ewin stumbling into a defensive stance by the door.

This was never supposed to happen. Of course, he had dreamed of something like this all his life, gloriously defending the Blue Palace against a horde of invading monsters. Alone, he would stand against the tide, turning it back and earning the eternal gratitude of the High Queen herself. She would recognize him, thank him by name, and plant a single kiss on his cheek.

Guard Captain Sigrid slammed the point of her halberd down into the bandit as she attempted to rise, giving the shaft a sharp twist before whipping it free in an arc of spraying red. Ewind actually felt himself shrink away from it, taking another step back toward the door.  
He had to get ahold of himself. He had seen fights like this before. He had seen raids and Stormcloak attacks and all manner of monsters in the wild. He had done his share of killing. This should have been nothing to him.

It was those battles that kept his muscles moving on their own, telling his feet to plant, his shoulders to square themselves against the next blow that was surely coming. Between all the crashing and shouting, it was impossible to tell where the next attack would come from, especially with all the echoes scattering from the stone walls that inclosed them on three sides. Somehow, he managed to bring his shield up in time as another of these mindless people threw themselves toward him, swinging for his head with a heavy mace. His arm shuddered against the impact, his shoulder burning after holding the shield fo so long, but he stood his ground. This time his sword came flashing out in response, catching the poor thrall in the stomach and sending him to the ground.

Sigrid was making her way toward the center of the yard, that halberd of hers cutting a huge swath through the coming horde. He had never seen anyone fight like that before. The sharp crack of wood punctuated the ongoing struggle as she struck knees, shoulders, skulls, and groins in a whirlwind of steel and red cloth.

Ewind pushed forward, struggling ferociously to get beside her. They looked ridiculous. A quiet night of ceremony had turned into the worst fight of their lives and it showed even in their dress. Almost all of them still wore the ceremonial armor they had donned as part of the royal reception. One of the queen’s cousins or someone equally uninteresting was visiting and all of them had been asked to dress up especially well. With so many of them armored up, they should have been better prepared, but unfortunately for them, the ceremonial armor included a flowing red cape that was almost impossibly difficult to take off without help.

A few of his comrades still wore theirs while others had the good sense to tear them off, ripping the fabric and leaving them at least a bit more free of movement. And that was just those on watch. It had all happened so quickly that half the royal guard were fighting largely in their nightshirts.

Sigrid was one such, but then again, she was Sigrid, and any armor would have just slowed her down. It came as a surprise to no one that her version of casual attire included what looked less like a shirt and trousers and more like padded leather armor.

Above the shouting, it was almost impossible to make out what the woman was saying but Ewind was just close enough to hear her. “Push them back! Keep them away from the doors!”

Ewind looked back toward the doors just in time to see a large club swinging for his head. He ducked on instinct, feeling the rush of air on his scalp as he barely avoided being brained. The thrall swinging for him had come at him in a run and failed to stop when his weapon met only air. He overbalanced, stumbling forward like a recruit straight off the farm. Ewind’s training told him where to strike next and his hand shook at the blade’s impact with two of the man’s ribs. He watched the man fall, face contorted in shock and agony. It had gotten easier, watching that, since the first time it had happened, but not much.

Another thrall came roaring up behind him. Ewind spun, shield once more at the ready. This time the impact was so painful it drew a cry of pain from his lips. He was so tired. Everything was so heavy.

Still keeping his balance, he lowered the shield and struck back, knocking his attacker down with a blow to the legs. He managed to finish this one himself, and as he drew the blade back, another thrall came howling in. More screams, more clashing of metal against his shield, more cries for mercy coming from his battered arms. How much longer was this going to last? There was only so much a man could take before he broke.

As he whirled against yet another foe, he felt his body jerk backward. He tried to turn but his ankle twisted as something heavy pulled against his neck. Somewhere behind him, someone was grabbing his cloak. As he turned to face them, he felt something slam against his stomach. Sparks flew from his chest plate as a sword crashed against the metal. He felt a moment of shock. It was only after a moment that he realized the blade had been stopped by the armor but by then it was already coming down a second time, battering his chest and jarring him as badly as the bastard tugging on his neck. He slashed at the one behind him, desperately trying to knock him away or land any blow against him. He found only air.

The sword began battering his arms. His shield was knocked from his arm, wrenching his shoulder and causing another cry of pain to escape. The thrall before him, a woman with frazzled blonde hair and a blood-soaked gash across her forehead, reared back, striking for his head. He only just managed to pull aside, taking the blow with his armored shoulder. He screamed again, feeling something crack as the impact coarsed through him. She raised the sword again.

Instead of striking down, the woman lunged forward, crashing on top of Ewind and knocking him to the ground. Whoever was behind him fell, too, thrashing beneath him in surprise. Sheer desperation brought Ewind’s fists forward, punching against the thrall now lying on top of him. He managed to knock her aside, throwing her to the ground. Before he could finish her, another hand grasped the front of his armor. He looked up, terrified.

Sigrid clenched her fist and growled. “Get up, Ewind! You’re a guard of the Blue Palace, now, so start acting like one!”

Even in full armor, he was practically lifted off his feet, catching himself on the stone as Sigrid lifted him from the stones. “I - thank you, ma’am.”

More metal clashed against his chest. “Drop that sword again and I’ll shove it somewhere so intimate that you’ll never lose it again.”

Fear of Sigrid was all that kept Ewind from dropping his blade a second time, fumbling it against his gauntlets until at last clasping it in the correct hand.

“Pick up your shield!”

The loud thwack! of her halberd striking bone sent Ewind into a run, scrambling on the ground and falling to one knee as he struggled to fix the shield to his arm once more. There was another thwack and the sickening squelch of the pointed end finding purchase in the body of another victim as Ewind stood, desperate to make himself look less useless than he felt.

Sigrid, with as much ease and grace as she showed in the practice yard, brought her blade out of the neck of one thrall and brought the weapon down in a vicious arc, sinking into the forehead of a vampire that before it could even close with her. The body twitched horribly, snarling at the woman that had so easily taken its life.

“Ewind!”

Ewind scrambled up to her. “Yes, captain?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, captain.”

A blur of movement beside him brought Ewind’s shield into an instinctual guard. It wasn’t necessary. Another, faster blur struck it in the face, sending it reeling. The thrall stumbled backward, dropping his sword and clutching at his now-broken nose. Another blur and he was down, this time for good.

Sigrid twirled her halberd and turned to Ewind, unfazed as always. “You’re new here, so I’ll forgive you, but I don’t tolerate bullshit. You were on duty when this started. Last night, you were in the throne room.”

Ewind stiffened, the vampires suddenly the least of his worries. “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t see them. I -”

“They’re vampires, soldier, you’re not supposed to see them. A dozen other, more experienced sets of eyes missed them, so don’t waste my time being sorry for that.” Her halberd spun again and Ewind flinched. This time, there was no sudden impact, not against him or any thrall he had not seen. The shaft came to rest easily against her shoulder, the blade, now stained with red, hanging in the air behind her.

“Yes, captain. Sorry, captain.”

Sigrid, standing on a battlefield strewn with corpses, under a sky the color of flowing blood, turned her head to the side and smiled. Ewind nearly soiled his pants at the sight. “You did well. The High Queen lives. If the reports I hear are true, that is largely thanks to you.”

“I only did my duty.”

Sigrid sniffed, shifting the halberd in her grasp and knocking the shaft against the ground. “Would that I had been there to see it. No matter. I’m sending you back inside.”  
The courtyard had gone quieter since Sigrid had started talking to him. It was not quiet by any means, small battles still raging in the corners and down the causeway, but it was not the desperate last stand it had been a moment before. Ewind looked toward the city itself and the true battle being fought beyond. Over Sigrid’s shoulder he could see the clouds of smoke rising from every district. The fort beyond was lit with flame, its outer towers burning above the shattered gates.

“Back inside? What -”

“Make sure the High Queen is safe. Put eyes on her guards, make sure nothing got through these doors, and come straight back here to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Ewind looked back toward the barred doors. No one had gotten through. It was impossible. “Captain -”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“The fight is here!”

Sigrid took one very menacing step forward. “The fight, Guard Ewind, is where I tell you it is. Now stop wasting my time and get in there! Go!”

Ewind was inside the palace before she had finished yelling.

The normally spotless atrium was covered with refuse, an impossible carpet of toppled benches, shattered glasses, platters, clothing, papers, goblets, and even a case of fine wine. The clutter nearly tripped him as Ewind tore across the polished marble floor, hurrying up the stairs to the audience chamber. He took them two at a time, reaching the top and skidding to a halt before the red carpet.

This is where he had been standing when everything started. The memories hit him like the sudden undertow at the edge of the sea, pulling him down before he could stop them. It felt like it had happened years ago.

He had been so proud when he had joined the Royal Guard. Even if it meant standing at attention for hours, doing nothing but watch as Jarl Elisif spoke at length on the most inane of subjects. Even comfortable on her throne, the tedium weighed heavily even on her royal eyes. The other guards always complained about the long nights of waiting, their skills wasting away as living statues and glorified servants. They were there to look intimidating, nothing more. No trouble ever came their way. No one ever sent the Royal Guard to clear out a bandit camp or a troll’s lair.

When the first assassin came, Ewind thought it was all for show. Someone shouted in alarm and he turned to see, standing in the shadows beside an open window, an archer with his bow drawn. He was so perfectly placed that all Ewind had to do was raise his shield and he could hardly fail to stop it. After that, everything went crazy. Elisif was taken to her chambers by the closest of her guard while Ewind was dragged along with the rest into a fight that destroyed much of the room’s furniture. The room, normally kept warm by the large hearth on the wall, was unusually cold now that most of the windows had been shattered and the fire had been left to burn out.

That seemed like a lifetime ago.

Clamouring and shouting from one of the side passages brought him back to the moment and sent him running toward the commotion. The Jarl’s chambers were tucked away from the audience chamber, back through a series of hallways containing guest rooms, guard posts, and what must have been half a dozen unique dining halls.  
The rooms were surprisingly empty. Most of the servants had fled to the safety of the basements but the Jarl herself had been cut off during the fighting. That had left Ewind and his friends fighting for nearly a day, keeping her safe inside her room.

It wasn’t long before he began spotting vampire bodies, and not long after that he began seeing his friends crumpled against the walls. He kept running, not bothering to stop and pray like he should have. They deserved better than this, but then again, so did all of them. He closed his eyes and cursed and hope that was good enough for now.

He turned the final corner to the Jarl’s bedchamber to find two of her guards pressed up against the door, swords flailing against an onslaught of vampires. One of them looked up.

“Ewind! Gods dammit, get your ass over here and help!”

One of the vampires turned to face him, the shouting drawing his attention. He lunged forward, impossibly fast and making a horrible hissing sound as he did. Ewind did not stop, lowered his shield, and charged forward.

The vampire came up short, dodging to the side as Ewind ran by and swiping at his unguarded flank.

Ewind’s sword caught him in the ribs. He gurgled in surprise, clutching the wound and falling to the ground. Without stopping, Ewind barrelled into the backs of the remaining thrall, hacking and slashing until the lot of them fell.

The two guards at the door stood, dusting themselves off and taking what must have been a badly needed breath. “Oi. Good timing, lad.”

The voice was Hamon’s, an older man who had always looked more like an innkeeper than a soldier. His companion was a younger, harder man named Ulferth that had been trying to rise in the ranks for three years but was stopped firm by the competence and icy demeanor of Sigrid’s leadership. He would have made captain in any other outfit, but Sigrid was one of a kind.

Ulferth was also the brunt of many unkind nicknames, something that probably informed his thorny disposition. “Took you long enough. We sent a runner an hour ago, did you just ignore her or were you too busy playing hero?”

Ewind, still catching his breath from the last twelve hours of almost constant fighting, lacked the energy to tell him to fuck off. “Sigrid sent me. The Jarl?”

“She’s safe,” Hamon answered, taking a vicious looking axe and cleaning it on one of the bodies. “Just behind the door. Lucky thing you came by, because I do think it’s just the two of us here, now.”

Ulferth snorted, flicking his sword back and forth and spraying red on the bodies beneath him. “Two of us against a horde of vampires and we’re still here. You’re a damned terror, Ham. I’m looking for a little time off after all this, and a fat sack of gold to go with it. Sigrid sent you? Why?”

“Just to make sure the palace was secure. The fight is still on in the courtyard. We’ve got them nearly pushed out.”

It was mostly true, at least from what Ewind had seen. Hamon nodded. “The palace should be clear. Did you see any servants?”

“No.”

“Anyone at all?”

“No, no one.”

“Good.” He turned to Ulferth. “That means they’re below, in the cellars, right? Should be safe enough.”

Ulferth nodded his agreement. “They’ve got good people with them. Go on, Ewind. Go back to Sigrid and tell her we need more people. If we haven’t got them all, and they come back for us, we might not be able to hold them.”

“We’re on our last legs here, boy,” Hamon said more quietly. “If you hadn’t come by when you did -”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ulferth cut him off, walking up to Ewind and shoving him back down the hall. “You were here, we’re still alive, now get out there and get us some help!”

Once again, Ewind was off running, this time back to the courtyard.

Down the hall the ran, around the bends littered with corpses, down the stairs, over the polished marble and out the front gates of the palace. As he shoved the gates open, the loud grinding filling the air, part of him perked up at the sound. It was the only sound. The courtyard was quiet.

As he shoved the doors open, he found the yard strewn with bodies, both vampire and human, and suffered a moment of panic when he realized how empty it all was. That panic faded when he saw Sigrid, halberd dangling at her side from one hand, stalking back and forth before the door. Her eyes darted up as the hinges squealed, her pacing turning to a sharp march toward Ewind as he left the palace.

“What news?”

“The Jarl lives. Ulferth and Hamon are with her but they will need help.”

Sigrid let out a sharp laugh. “We all need help right now, Ewind.”

“I know, captain. I - where is everyone?”

For the first time since he had known her, Ewind saw Sigrid hurt. “After you left… they hit us hard. Most didn’t make it. The rest are inside; should be heading down below to join the others. It’s just you and me now.”

Ewind looked around the courtyard and for the first time noticed how many of his friends were now lying on the ground. His eyes moved slowly, held in place by the sheer weight of death every time they found another set of Solitude armor.

A hand clapped firmly on his shoulder, jarring him awake. “Stay with me, Ewind. We’re almost through this.” Sigrid turned away from him, looking back down the causeway. “We’ll head back inside, meet up with Ulferth and Hamon and get the Jarl out of her chambers. We can get her below, put her in a safe -”

Ewind was no longer listening; he was trying to scream. The pain under his shoulder was incredible. It burned like all the fires of Oblivion pushing their way under his skin. He opened his mouth to scream but the hand over it like an iron vice. He felt his lungs begin to shudder, his legs begin to wobble.

Sigrid turned and saw him. She swore, raising her halberd in fury. Suddenly Ewind was no longer standing but falling, his legs unable to carry his weight. His armor clattered to the ground with a thunderous crash, his head cracking against the stone. He saw white, and through the white, the image of Sigrid’s halberd flashing overhead.

A shadow moved in front of him, laughing and dancing around all of Sigrid’s strikes. He heard her yelling at him but no matter how hard he tried, he could not make his arm move. He needed his sword. He had to do something.

Every heartbeat was agony as he tried to pull himself up. His vision blurred with pain, sharpening as he pushed himself back and found himself leaning against one of the courtyard’s columns. He could make out Sigrid’s fluid strikes, beautiful and precise and yet still unable to catch even the corner of this moving shadow. The exertion was plain on her face as she spun, stabbed, and swept, over and over in a blur.

Ewind, his left arm numb but still able to move, reached for his belt. He had another sword. He could use that; get up, knock the shadow off balance, give Sigrid the opening she needed to spear him.

His fingers groped along his belt, searching for the familiar handle. It was always there, always mocking him with how damned useless it was. It was just dead weight.

There! His hand closed around the hilt. With a sharp jerk he yanked it free. Now. Now he could help. He -

Sigrid screamed. The shadow, dropping to one knee below a sweeping strike of the halberd, lunged forward, coming to a sudden stop in front of the captain. Ewind froze. He tried to cry out but only managed to cough as the taste of metal began to fill the edges of his mouth.

The shadow laughed. Ewind could hear it clearly now, as clearly as he heard Sigrid’s halberd fall to the ground, as clearly as he saw the blade in her chest. Sigrid, face contorted in agony, brought her hands up to her chest and began scrabbling feebly at the blade. The shadow shushed her, quietly pushing her back toward one of the pillars, laughing under his breath as he pushed her back and pulled the blade free.

Sigrid, eyes going wide, fell heavily against the stone, staring in shock at the shadow that had killed her. She slumped very slowly to the ground, eyes finally coming to rest on Ewind’s.

The shadow seemed to stretch, flipping a blade in his hand and turning back toward the keep with an almost happy jaunt. Ewind tried to sit up, to get a better grip on his blade. He could throw it. He could jam it into the monster’s heart. Then he could get to Sigrid. She couldn’t be dead. Nothing could kill Sigrid.

“Oh, no no no no, we can’t have that!” The shadow was suddenly before him and, before he could make his muscles work, plucked the blade from his grasp.  
Ewind growled and tried to say something brave but only managed to cough. Gods, that stupid little blade had really done a number on him. He managed to raise his eyes to meet with his murderer’s, staring him down and daring him to finish it.

“Come now, happy face! You’re about to go on a wonderful journey to places you’ve never been! Oh, don’t look so sad. You’re mad about the stabbing, aren’t you? Feels pretty stupid, huh?” One dark hand reached out and patted Ewind’s cheek, making him flinch. “Don’t feel bad about that. That’s worked on better folks than you. You know, just yesterday - two days ago? Who knows, time flies when you’re having fun. Anyway, it’s worked on way scarier people than you. I used it on a couple vampires and they never saw it coming, either. No one ever, ever sees it coming. And I have no idea why!”

The shadow flipped the dagger, tilting its head in what Ewind imagined was an expression of pure insanity. Using the last of his strength, he forced himself to smile. “You’re too late.”

“Oh? Too late? For what?”

“Elisif. She’s gone. Safe. You lose.”

There was a moment of pause as the shadow stared at him, and for a moment, Ewind’s vision cleared enough to make out the man’s face in the dim light. He looked like a madman. He looked like the kind of person Ewind fought in the throne room while Elisif watched right before she fell in love with him. Too bad he couldn’t move his arms.

The murderer shook his head and sighed. “You’ve got guts, boy. I’ll - oh, wait a moment. We have company!”

With a flourish, the man got to his feet and turned to face the causeway leading down to the city of Solitude. Ewind, with no weapons to stab this monster in the back and no strength to go searching, let his head loll to the side.

Coming up the causeway, just crossing the edge of the courtyard, was another shadow. Ewind squinted harder, trying to make the shape come into focus. It looked like a woman with a long cloak about her shoulders. She carried longsword in one hand, its point held out to the side and facing the ground.

Ewind squinted harder. Was that smoke coming off the blade?

“You!” the shadow called. It sounded almost happy, in its own deranged way. “I was just talking about you. This poor boy fell for the same little trick you and your friend did. Isn’t that amazing? Two in as many days. You really need to take better care of -”

With a demonic _whoosh_ , the shadow staggered as Ewind’s vision blurred. Suddenly the sword was not in the woman’s hand. It had vanished, appearing in the middle of the shadow, its smoking point jutting from the man’s back. The force of it sent him reeling back, tripping over Ewind’s feet and falling to one knee beside the gate.

His breathing ragged, he turned, grasping at the handle in a terrible imitation of what Sigrid had done moments before. “I… No fair.”

“Sorry,” she said, her so full of malice that Ewind felt a chill upon hearing it. “Were you in the middle of something?”

The woman strode across the courtyard, cloak billowing behind her. The man, still kneeling on the stones, coughed. “That’s for what I did, is it? To your girlfriend? It doesn’t matter. He’s coming. He’s coming for you. He’s going to kill you and her and -”

The woman stopped in front of the shadow, grasped the hilt of her sword and kicked. Without a sound, the shadow, dropped backward until he was sitting on his heels. As the blade came free, smoke still trailing it, the man looked up just as it swung down in a wide arc that took his head from his shoulders.

Ewind blinked, trying to clear his vision as the woman stood over the headless corpse of Sigrid’s killer.

“He can certainly try.”

Watching the man’s corpse slump to the ground, Ewind began pushing himself up the pillar. He scarcely got off his elbow before his stomach seized and another coughing fit took him. Even as his one good arm gave out, he forced himself to roll onto his side. There was no one inside to help the Jarl. And Sigrid. Sigrid was just lying there.

“Easy, now, kid. Take a breath.” Hands grasped his shoulder and side, easing him back against the pillar. The woman ran her hands over his side, examining the wound the man’s dagger had left. “Lot of blood on you. You’re a lucky man. A wound like that should have killed you. Got someone upstairs looking out for you?”

Ewind grimaced as her hand reached under his wounded shoulder. His free hand reached out to try and stop her on instinct but it was not as though he could do anything. He could barely wipe his chin, let alone fight off someone like, well, whoever she was.

He coughed again, trying in vain to speak.

“That’s it,” the woman soothed, placing one hand over the wound. “Focus on that because this next part is going to suck.”

Pain ripped through Ewind’s mind. He yelped, choked, and watched as the whole world turned white in front of him. The woman kept talking to him, her voice giving him some anchor to hold on to as his consciousness was tossed about like a raft in a storm. Ewind had no idea how long it took to settle; he only remembered opening his eyes after hours of agony, his vision clearing at last.

The woman was still crouched before him, looking at the blood on her hand and slowly wiping it away against the stone beneath her. Ewind found his throat clear and, for a moment, managed to speak.

“Sigrid.”

It was too soft for her to hear but he said it anyway. She had to get up. She couldn’t be dead.

The strange woman looked over her shoulder, following Ewind’s gaze to where Sigrid lay slumped against the stone. “Shit. Sorry, kid. Sounds like I got here too late.”

That didn’t make sense. It wasn’t too late for anything. Sigrid - well, she would get up soon. Then she would grab Ewind and together they could try and make something out of this mess.

“Elisif.”

“The Jarl?” The woman turned back to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and setting him a little straighter. “You’ve seen her? She’s still alive?”

“Inside.”

The woman let out a visible sigh of relief. “Good. You did well. Don’t worry. We’ll make it through this yet, okay? I promise. Just rest.”

Ewind tried to push himself up the wall a little further. He could feel himself fading, his body collapsing from the exhaustion of the battle. Just a little longer. He just had to get inside and show this woman where the Jarl was hiding. She could save her.

“Wait. Elisif -” Another fit of coughing broke off the rest of what he wanted to say.

The woman’s hands were at his sides again, easing him back as though he were a child. “It’s alright. It was a good fight, kid. You did great. Now I’ll take care of the rest, okay?”

As she pushed him back against the pillar, darkness began to close in around him, and all he could do was stare pleadingly upward as the woman’s eyes stared back. Orange eyes. Bright, glowing eyes.

The woman stood, pushing her hood back and giving Ewind his first clear look at her face. She was beautiful. The woman gave him one last look, smiling at him under a blood red sky.

“It’s going to be alright.”

With that, she turned toward the causeway, smoke-wreathed sword in hand. Ewind watched, his eyes beginning to glaze over, as the woman walked right out to the edge of the courtyard. The sword twirled and, in one brutal movement, slammed into the stone, embedding itself what must have been a foot deep in the rock. The ground seemed to shake as the woman’s hand left the hilt, the blade standing on its own. Her hand disappeared beneath her cloak and returned a moment later holding a bow.

“HARKON!” The woman’s shout pierced the night as her other hand drew an arrow from a quiver that peeked over one shoulder.

Ewind felt his eyes fluttering closed. He looked from the strange woman to Sigrid and tried to speak. “Elisif. I’m sorry.”

“HARKON! CAN YOU HEAR ME? COME AND FACE ME IF YOU’RE BRAVE ENOUGH!”

Her words echoing on the inside of the courtyard, the woman set the arrow against the bow. From down the causeway, Ewind heard the faint sound of screaming and pounding feet. With one smooth motion, the woman drew the arrow back and sent it zipping down the causeway. The world began to fade as the woman continued to bellow into the night.

“HARKON!”


	49. Volkihar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana returns to Castle Volkihar to face her father. Eira continues to fight outside the Blue Palace

The Soul Cairn passed in a blur as Serana sprinted toward the distant fortress. She was less than thrilled to be back, but this was not like the first time. This time, she was no helpless girl quaking in her boots and clinging to Eira’s skirts.

When black spectres rose from the path before her, the Soul Cairn obeying her commands and scattered their bones into the dirt with bright flashes of lightning. She looked skyward, scanning the horizon for that massive creature she had seen the last time they were here. She was beyond relieved when she could not find it. This was the last time she would come to this horrible place. She wouldn’t have come at all, but if this was to be her last fight against her father, she needed all the help she could get. She needed the one person he feared above all others, the only mage ever to give him pause.

More of those wraths appeared as she ran but none slowed her down more than the moment it took to blow them apart. Luckily for her, none of the larger monsters, the ones with solid bone armor that towered above the rest, seemed to have returned since Eira had destroyed them last time.

She reached the black walls of the prison, panting but far from winded. “Mother! Mother, are you in here!”

Valerica appeared almost immediately, appearing from behind one of the stone pillars like she had been waiting there the whole time. “Serana? What -”

“It’s father. He’s done it.” Serana put her hands on her knees and took a moment to breathe. She had not stopped moving since Eira had said goodbye, and after climbing over the mountains, rowing across the sea, climbing the tallest tower in Castle Volkihar, revisiting the place she had turned Eira into a vampire, and running like mad through the Soul Cairn, she was just beginning to get worn out.

Her mother rushed forward, her face etched with worry. “What is it? The prophecy? Has he fulfilled the prophecy?”

“Yes. He - it’s a long story. We found the bow but he found us. He stole my blood. Eira - we have to get back. We have to stop him.”

Suddenly air filled her lungs. The pounding in her legs ceased as warmth flooded her body. She scarcely even felt the hand on her shoulder. She looked up to find her mother, eyes closed, pouring light into her. Serana blinked stupidly for a few heartbeats before frantically trying to sense what magic her mother was using. Something like this would be extremely helpful. Eira could probably learn it, too, and then -

“There.” The light faded and her mother moved her hand from Serana’s shoulder down to her arm, hoisting her upward. “Now. Let’s go pay your father a visit. It’s been too long since he and I had a good, long chat, and I’m beginning to think our marriage has suffered from it.”

Valerica was already making her way down the stairs, forcing Serana to scurry after her, hopping down the stairs before breaking into a run. Her mother let her lead, something that made Serana pause until she realized the woman might not remember exactly how to get out of here. She had probably been trapped here as long as Serana had been in Dimhollow. Even the sharpest of minds would forget a few things after so long a time.

They had hardly made it down the hill when the ground shook with a terrible and all-too-familiar roar. Serana’s hands flashed with fire and she looked to the sky. “Dragon! You won’t have it so easy this time. Mother - ”

To Serana’s shock, Valerica was laughing as she ran. “Come! Durnehviir will not trouble us.”

A stray rock nearly sent Serana sprawling on her face. “Durneh-what? You know - how?”

“He returned to life after you departed. I thought he would seek vengeance, but instead he attempted to speak with me. It took some time, but eventually we devised a way for us to pass our messages. It would seem he was imprisoned here, just as I was, and he is very eager to leave this realm.”

Her mother slowed ahead of her, allowing Serana to catch up before fixing her with a strange look. “He had much to tell me about your friend. You chose a very interesting person to idle with, my daughter. I doubt you know just how interesting.”

Serana, torn between being flustered by her mother’s sudden interest in her love life and the dread of facing her father in a fight to the death, tried to run faster. “I have a very good idea how interesting she is, mother.”

Her mother just laughed louder. “I have no doubt. I will tell you all about it when we have the time. She might like to hear some of it, as I doubt she knows the extent of what she can do.”

Serana fought off the heat creeping into her cheeks as she focused on just how insufferable Eira would be, knowing she was special enough for a dragon to notice. It was hard enough living with her already. Between what Serana had already pieced together and this long-dead dragon’s sudden interest in her, it was not terribly difficult to imagine exactly what her mother had been told.

She hoped that was all it was. The poor woman already had the attention of Sithis himself. Once this was all over, she would have to find a very tall tower on a very secluded mountain and make sure Eira never left. There were too many great powers trying to use her. She deserved the right to choose.

Well, choose, and then ask Serana if it was okay. The woman really did have the worst ideas. There was only room for one manipulative power in Eira’s life and Serana was not giving up her seat.

With a dragon swooping low overhead, they reached the portal and the stairs that ascended to Castle Volkihar. Valerica was grinning like a child as she sprinted upward, vanishing into the swirling violet light. Serana stopped at the base of the stairs and looked up at the sky one last time. Far above, circling around the light of the portal, was the dragon Eira had slain the last time they were here. She watched as it banked gracefully around the light of the portal and emitted a long, almost mournful roar into the unnatural air. She never thought she would feel sorry for a dragon, especially one that had tried to kill her, but here she was.

Serana shook her head, forcing herself to start marching up the stairs. Nothing was ever simple. Running away from home? Simple. Her father trying to put out the sun? Simple. Being rescued by a beautiful woman from a crypt far beneath the earth? Simple. Why was it that putting all those things together made everything so much worse? Why was the god of death so interested in that beautiful woman who, now, was actually just as dead as Serana?

Eira had been right. Once this was over, they were going to start farming turnips.

There was a loud whoosh and Serana found herself uncomfortably pulled from the Soul Cairn and back into Valerica’s study. She found herself clutching her sides, searching for any phantom organs that had come loose during the trip.

“Gods, I hate that feeling.”

Her mother was standing at the top of the stairs, eyes closed and taking a long breath. “I have waited so long to breathe again. You can’t imagine -”

“I really can,” Serana snapped, a little more forcefully than she wanted but maybe she was still a little sore about that.

Valerica winced, her shoulders sagging. “Yes, I would imagine you can. My apologies.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Serana moved around her mother, her eyes now clouded by guilt, and began walking toward the door. “You did what you thought was best. I accept that. We’ll have time to work things out once this is over.”

Seeming to remember that the world was coming to and end, Valerica suddenly straightened and started walking toward a door on the far side of the room. “Of course. You’re saying that your father actually found the bow? And it actually put out the sun? Just like in the prophecy?”

“We found the bow,” Serana said icily as she stopped to watch where her mother was going. “Father sent someone to steal it from us. I would have died if Eira hadn’t been there. She saved me.”

“Of course she did.” Valerica reached her own door and began undoing the locks. “That was always your father’s way, you know. He never reached power on his own. Only through the labors of those around him was he lifted to any great heights.”

The door clicked and Valerica pulled it open. Red light immediately flooded the room, spilling around Valerica as she stood in the doorway.

“It actually worked. Gods above, it actually worked.”

“It worked,” Serana growled, stomping toward where her mother was standing. “And thousands of people are dying every moment we do not stop him.”

Her mother laughed offhandedly, as though what Serana was saying was so childish it didn’t bear considering. “Of course they are. It’s amazing that you care about them. It’s not as though they care about you. They’d like nothing more than to tie you to a stake and burn you in the town square.”

“I care,” Serana said, pushing right up to her mother and standing between her and the outside world. “Because it’s the right thing to do. This, this world, this madness, isn’t right. I don’t care if they hate me and I’m not saying I have any love for them, either, but I can still look at all this and know in my bones that this is wrong.”

Valerica at last turned her gaze from the darkened world to her estranged daughter. She looked amused, at first, then slowly began to wilt.

“Of course. I am old. I have seen many things done in hatred toward our kind. I hope you never understand that feeling. We will stop him. Together.”

Serana nodded, moving past her mother and toward the door that would lead down to the rest of Castle Volkihar. “Come on, then. We have to hurry.”

Again, Valerica laughed. “That is exactly what I am doing.”

The door creaked open and Serana turned to find her mother gone. She hurried to the door and pushed her way out onto a small balcony. Her mother stood on the edge of the railing, turned to face her, and sneered.

“Let’s go have a word with your father.”

Her body grew darker, her skin becoming gray and thick as leather. Two great, black wings extended from her back as her fingers and toes extended into long, grotesque claws. Serana stopped near the railing as her mother, now revealed in the true form of a pureblooded vampire, leapt into the open air and began to fly.

It was the perfect way to face her father. The form she had been cursed with when she had been offered to Molag Bal. There was no better way to strike him down.

Serana stepped onto the ledge. She had that form within her, too, but not since the day of her turning had she used it. It called to her, now. She could leap from this ledge, smash through the windows of the great hall, and tear her father limb from limb. Eira would be safe. She would be hers. All hers.

The air rushed around her as she fell, but no wings sprouted from her back. She was better than that. Better than what Bal had given her.

Her cloak snapped above her, tugging at her neck as she fell. A bit of Alteration magic flared between her fingers, snapping with green light as she reached out with both hands and concentrated. The air around her thickened, pushing up against her legs and arms. Slowly, her descent began to slow, just as the earth rose up to meet her. The ice and snow beneath her seemed so far away right up until she crashed into it.

Her mother was already flying far ahead of her, circling around the front of the castle and launching spells at something she could not see. The fall had not hurt her, leaving her with only a sense of surprise that her magic had actually worked. She should have done that years ago - no, weeks ago, when she was plummeting to her death with Eira in her arms and Falmer all around them. She rolled her eyes, already hearing Eira’s voice in her head.

As she hauled herself from the snow, for a brief moment, she could not believe she had actually jumped. She had been so focused, so determined to change into her vampire form, that she had practically been pulled over the edge. It left her with a far deeper chill than that of the snow piled up around her knees. Bal’s hold on her had not faded. Whatever she had thought in her time with Eira, his touch still lingered on her, his fingers still wrapped around pieces of her mind she had long since tried to cut away.

The thought sent her into a cold, unfeeling rage. She was going to kill someone for this.

Valerica was already clearing the way to the front gate, scattering gargoyles and defenders alike all across the stone ramp. Serana marched her way right up the center, fists clenched, frost misting down between the fingers on one hand while lightning sparked in the palm of the other. Where her father’s men emerged, they died, blown apart or skewered by spears of ice or incinerated by the spells of her mother flying overhead.

The front gates shattered in front of them as Valerica dove, kicking them down and sending them crashing off their hinges. Serana followed her in, knocking the gatekeeper from his post and sending a Death Hound back to the grave.

The dining hall was set for a victory feast. All of her father’s favorite minions were there, though none of them had remained seated when the castle had come under attack. As Valerica shot like an arrow through the entrance hall and off into the room beyond, Serana heard shouts of alarm and immediately watched as spells began to fly upward toward the ceiling where her mother had flown.

Both tables were covered in bodies. Serana’s lip curled as she recognized some of them. The woman that had taken them across the bridge to the College lay on one table, her body badly mangled but her face untouched. Beside her lay a man in Solitude armor. Across the room one of the bodies wore a crown, though she could not make out what city he was from. On the same table was another royal corpse, this one wearing the colors of Whiterun, as was the woman lying beside him.

She had always hated the backstabbing sycophants that had filled her father’s court. As one of them rushed the stairs and recognized her, his hands forming a pitiful ward in front of him, Serana felt no remorse in turning that shield and the man behind it into a shower of burning sparks.

Few of Harkon’s court possessed any real magic. Serana and her mother cut through them in seconds. All they could do was run, and even that did not take them far at all. Throughout the battle, Serana found herself watching the shadows, searching for the man that had put a knife in her stomach and forced Eira to give up the bow. That choice still haunted her, and the least Serana could do was to slowly rip that monster apart piece by piece until he knew how much pain he had caused her.

The last of Harkon’s men fell without him appearing and Serana was left standing in the center of the hall, seething with anger. Her mother took to the air again, vaulting from one of the shattered tables and sailed toward the raised second floor, breaking a banister as she crashed forward. Serana followed suit, taking the stairs and coming up behind her just in time to watch her rip a pair of gargoyles apart with her bare hands.

Valerica, or the monstrous body that she inhabited, turned two glowing eyes on Serana. “Hiding.”

Serana walked forward, passing uncomfortably close to the billowing wings extending from her mother’s back. “He wouldn’t hide. Not now, after he’s won. He wants to gloat.”

The monster beside her growled and a loud blast of air rippled Serana’s cloak as she huffed. “Chapel.”

She nodded her agreement, continuing forward toward the iron doors that marked the chapel’s entrance. He wanted to become a god among vampires; after tonight, he probably had. Of course he would be waiting there.

Valerica’s heavy footfalls echoed behind Serana as she made her way across the hall and up the front steps of the chapel entrance. She placed one hand on the door, steeled herself and shoved.

The room was dark. No candles were lit, the pews were vacant, and nothing decorated the podium at the far end of the room. The large fountain atop the dias, surrounded by stained glass, burbled with a constant flow of blood as it always had. There was no movement, no sign of Auriel’s Bow, and no vampire lord proclaiming victory over the world.

“Gone.”

Serana clenched her fists. “No. He can’t be.”

She unleashed a blast of lightning that destroyed two of the pews, setting one of them aflame. There was a burst of magical energy behind her as the heavy footfalls of a vampire lord receded and the slight, almost noiseless steps of her mother returned.

“He can’t be far. This doesn’t make sense. Where would he go? Why abandon his throne, his seat of power, now?”

Serana had an idea, and it chilled her to the bone. “Solitude.”

She whirled, turning toward the door, pushing past her mother as she began to run. “I have to go.”

Her mother caught her arm. “Be careful, Serana. Your father -”

“Eira is in Solitude. If he finds her -”

“I know. But your friend is stronger than you think. Trust her.” Valerica released her hold in her arm and stepped away. “Go. Find your father. I will remain here.”

“Mother -”

“If your father returns, someone will need to be here to stop him. I will not risk losing him, not tonight. I know you can stop him. Together, we will leave him nowhere to run. Now make haste. Save your friend. I think… I am looking forward to seeing her again.”

 

Eira felt the soft brush of the arrow’s fletching against her cheek just before she let it fly, sending it zipping down to join the rest. Another vampire, this one holding a spell in one hand, tried to get out of the way and found himself too slow. This one fell clutching his chest, the arrow protruding from his heart.

The causeway below was littered with bodies. It had been that way even before she had taken her place at the top but now the pile had grown larger, and every one of them had a single arrow sprouting from somewhere important. She drew another arrow from her quiver and set it against the string. This was how it had started, so long ago, only then it was a handful of vampires in a wide open space. It had been like shooting dummies on a range.

Eira frowned. Dimhollow had also been full of spiders. That made this a step up, then, didn’t it?

More scrambling at the bottom of the ramp brought Eira’s bow up for another shot. A vampire with a bow of his own had hopped over a low wall. He was far enough away to give Eira a moment of pause as she took aim. That gave him time to loose his shot. It went laughably wide. Hers did not.

Her fingers clutched at another arrow, bringing it over her shoulder as a cluster of thrall with pitchforks and farm tools came charging out of a manor house just down the road. It had taken them long enough. The house was so big, though, Eira could forgive them for getting a bit lost on their way out. They poured down the stairs, practically tripping over one another in their haste.

The first arrow was flying even before the last thrall had left the doorway, striking the first thrall in the eye as it came off the front porch and down the steps toward the street. The next stumbled over his body, rising just as Eira readied another shaft and put it squarely in his throat. Still howling with rage, the last thrall continued his hopeless charge, making it no further than the edge of the road before joining his friends. Eira hated to do it, but these poor people weren’t even human any longer. The vampires had killed them the moment they had shattered their minds.

At least, that was what she told herself.

It didn’t stop her from picking off a few more as they emerged from the shadows. She was going to run out of arrows soon. Looking up at the fort opposite the Blue Palace, she wondered if there was any point to keeping up the fight. There was no way she could kill them all. Whatever time she was buying for these people would probably be spent in sheer terror, hiding under their beds or in their cupboards until some nightmare found them and put an end to their misery.

Eira released another shaft, sending a vampire near the Bard’s College tumbling over a low wall with an arrow between his eyes. Serana had been right, and that thought alone made her feet sink deeper into the stone. She was nothing if not stubborn. She would make good on this, if only to make sure she could come back tomorrow and say anything except ‘you were right.’

She reached over her shoulder and grabbed for another arrow. Her quiver had grown light. Only two or three left, now. She could practically feel Vengeance beside her, pulsing against the stone, hungering to be used. It felt thirsty.

The arrow slid against the frame of her bow, notched comfortably against the string, and then froze.

The whole world froze. Eira, her bow raised and pointed down the slope, stared at the figure now striding over the bodies. A part of her had wanted this to happen but even that part had never truly believed it would. She felt her arms begin to go slack, her fingers losing their grip on the arrow as it began to dip toward the ground.

At the bottom of the causeway, wreathed in flame, his boots moving silently over the bodies of his men, stood the man she had been calling for; the one that had darkened the sky, the lord of Castle Volkihar, wielder of Auriel’s Bow, chosen of Molag Bal and vampire of pure blood. His steps carried an unnatural weight as he moved, the ground seeming to quake beneath him as he looked up toward the Blue Palace and at last met Eira’s eyes.

Lord Harkon had come to Solitude.


	50. The Lord of Volkihar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira faces Harkon outside the Blue Palace

“You’ve come quite a long way from the first time we met.” Harkon’s voice carried with his usual unhurried cadence. Even stepping over the bodies of his vampires, he was unconcerned. This was all part of the plan. He had foreseen all of this, and only through him was all this allowed to happen.

No wonder Serana had run away from home. “I get around. Sorry for dragging your daughter with me but keeping her entertained is a real handful. You’re not here to invite me to dinner again, are you?”

Harkon’s soft, mirthless chuckle echoed up the slope. “So cavalier in the face of certain death. I can see why my daughter tolerates you.”

“That’s a bit generous. She did kill me, you know.”

“So I see.” Harkon’s lip curled in open contempt. “I see, too, how carelessly you cast aside all that she has given you. To spurn the gift once should have been your doom but to have it bestowed upon you and still remain blind to its potential? You are not of pure blood, not truly one of us, so I would not expect you to understand -”

“I understand what it means. Probably better than you do.”

If he had been standing any closer, Harkon probably would have spat in her face. “Of course you do. You’ve known my daughter for a span of weeks and in that time you are closer than her own blood? Than those who brought her into this world?”

Eira smirked. “It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

“On that we would agree. All this waiting, this watching you fumble about, hunting for knowledge you could not comprehend, for power you could not hope to wield; it has been...”

Harkon stepped over another body, eyes never straying from Eira’s. As he trailed off, his foot came to rest atop the dead man’s sword and, still looking at Eira, came down in a blur of movement. The sword shattered.

“Insufferable.”

Eira did not move. “You’re telling me. You know I read three Elder Scrolls to get that bow? I still get headaches, I wobble when I stand up too fast, it’s a real nightmare.”

She probably should have been more careful about poking the bear but staying out of trouble had never been one of Eira’s strong suits. Harkon glowered at her from the base of the hill but did not come forward. Peeking over one shoulder was the glimmering frame of Auriel’s Bow. Eira had momentarily hoped he had left it behind and that Serana would find it within the castle.

Then again, nothing had been going right for them so far, so why would anything change now?

“I spoke in haste when we first met.”

With how slowly he always spoke, Eira thought it impossible for him to do anything of the kind, but she resisted the urge to taunt him. For now. Instead, she cocked her head and made a show of listening.

“I thought you nothing more than a wanderer,” Harkon continued, stepping forward slowly, one arm gesturing vaguely as he spoke. “Some adventurer, perhaps, that had been fortunate enough to come across my daughter’s resting place. I offered you then what I considered a very generous reward. I see now that was a mistake. I should have enticed you further.”

Eira physically bit her tongue until the words trying to escape her lips were something more appropriate. “It would have been a waste of time. What I said before was the truth. I helped Serana because she needed it. I needed no more reward than what she had already given me.”

“What noble sentiment but there is no need for such stagecraft and chivalry. My daughter is not here, and I would speak plainly with you.” Harkon stopped in his pacing, now off to one side of the stone road. “You say you needed nothing more. Is that all you desire? To be beside her? To help her, as you see it?”

What Eira desired with Serana actually did not involve her at all, though the sheer volume of terrible comebacks threatened to overwhelm her. “Better than wanting her for her blood. To use her for this against her will.”

She hardly needed to motion toward the sky but tilted her head upward all the same. Harkon seemed to chuckle. “In due time, she will see the gift I have given to her; the gift I have given to all our kind.”

“At the expense of her life.”

Now Harkon did laugh, and it was a terrible sound. “Is that what she told you? That I wanted to kill her? Look at the sky! Look at all that I have done! I did this without taking her life. Think what you will of me but my daughter is the key to all of this, to the future of our people. I would no sooner end her life than I would my own”

Eira watched as he took another step closer, toward the center of the causeway. “What else has she told you, I wonder? About me, about her mother? No doubt she has filled your head with all sorts of tales of hardship. My daughter is nothing if not a very clever child. Do you think her the victim in all this, an innocent soul dragged this way and that by uncaring whims of those hungry for power?”

Her fingers tensed around the bowstring. He was just begging for another hole in his head.

“Tell me, wanderer, what do you remember of your first meeting? I would imagine, were you inclined to answer, that it would be her eyes. You remember her eyes piercing you, freezing you. You could not move, could not think, and, of course, you could not harm her, no matter how badly you wanted to. It was impossible. You thought yourself at her mercy, and you were. You thought she spared your life, and she did, but not in the way you believe.”

Another step and Eira felt a tingle at the back of her mind. Without warning it grew from nothing to the grasp of a hand around her skull. She threw her hand up on instinct, grasping at her hair in shock. The moment passed and the sensation faded, leaving Eira to look frantically back down the slope. Harkon was still there, just where he had been before.

“Do you wonder at what you felt just now? It is her influence. I can see her work even here. Her magic was always subtle. She could always work the minds of others like they were nothing more than puppets, their strings so eager to be tangled about her fingers. You dance to her tune, even if you do not know it.”

Eira glared, her hand once again finding the bow. “You’re lying.”

“Believe whatever you’d like, I only offer you the truth. What have I to gain by lying to you now? You see, that is why she is so clever. Were I to free you of these enchantments now, you would feel nothing. What you feel for her has grown so slowly, so deep within you, that these surface thoughts would fade and you would be left unchanged. Perhaps you would wonder at why you did not fight in the beginning but in the end you would not care. You would be grateful that you did not because it allowed you to be hers.”

Harkon took another, slow stride toward Eira and the palace. Her fingers tensed, her arm reaching upward ever so slightly to raise the bow. Everything in her screamed to put the arrow right through his smug grin.

“I do not wish to harm my daughter.” The expression on his face flashed momentarily to one of frustration, and when he spoke again, Eira understood why. “Nor do I wish to harm those she cares for. I am not here to kill you, Eira.”

“No, you seem to be here to insult me.”

“I would consider that an improvement, if I were you. If I wanted you dead, I promise you would never have seen it coming. And, if I may be so bold, I do not believe you want me dead, either.”

Eira raised an eyebrow. “Keep talking, I might surprise you.”

“While I am sure you feel no love for me, you only wish to kill me because you believe I will harm Serana. You see, I know you, Eira. I see what festers in your heart. This world has not been kind to you. You have been cast down since the day of your birth; mistreated, robbed of all joy, driven to madness as everyone you care for has been taken away. All you have done, you have done in the name of finding peace. Of being left alone.” Harkon took another step. “I can give you that. With the forces at my command, this world will soon look very different, and you are one of those few who can see this new world for its true potential and glory. I can promise you anything. Whatever wealth and comforts you desire, I will see you have them. But most of all, what I know you value above all else, I can offer you the solitude, and the woman, you seek.”

“My daughter cares very deeply for you. I know you care for her, as well. I can give you both a rest. Take whatever corner of the world you desire. Wherever you wander, you would go untouched. If you desired a refuge, you have but to name it, and it will be yours. The cliffs of Solitude are yours. The shores of Dawnstar are yours. All of Skyrim is yours.”

The tension in her arm began to ease. Eira, still watching as Harkon slowly advanced up the hill, allowed herself to wonder. Serana would be safe. If this darkened world truly was his endgame, both she and Eira had survived it. Harkon had spoken truly when he talked of Eira and her love for Serana. She wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.

“Think back on all you have been through. When you stood atop the highest tower of the temple to Auri-El, when the bow was in your grasp, the war over and all the world made safe, what did you do? You traded all of it, and your people would call you a monster for it. If they knew what you did, they would be lining up to take your head.” Harkon let out a low, animal growl that seemed to shake the stone. “But I understand. I know why you made that choice. It was not out of selfishness that you chose her life over so many others. It was because you know what her life is worth. You know that the life of someone such as her cannot be measured against those of peasants or farmers or brigands. You made a choice few would have the strength to make, and once again, my daughter’s life was saved.”

Eira felt her fingers losing their grip on her bow. He was right. The world had been cruel to the both of them, and though Eira would not begin to compare her own suffering to Serana’s, it was more than enough to convince her that this world was hardly worth saving. She could pick someone at random in the street and did not doubt that, given the chance, they would likely stab her in the back for whatever gold was in her pockets. Serana was different. She had been given that chance time and time again and instead had shown nothing but kindness. Eira could never repay her for that, but now, she had a chance. She could give her the kind of peace and comfort she deserved.

“I do not wish you dead, Eira, not just because of the power you now wield, but because I see you for who you are. I am grateful that my daughter has found such a companion as you. You have saved her twice, now, and those from just the machinations of both her wretched mother and my foolish servants. This is to say nothing of what you have gone through with her over what truly has been a few very long weeks. You have kept her safe where I could not, took her places I could never go. We may not like one another, but I am not blind enough to ignore the good you have done for her. Whatever our differences may be, Eira, I thank you for saving my daughter’s life.”

All she had to do was walk away. Nothing in the world was simpler. Just turn around, find Serana, and walk away.

“This does not need to turn to violence. With this, without the Empire, Skyrim will fall in hours. Riften will be retaken. The Dawnguard will be no more.” Harkon paused, laughing softly under his breath. “But as we have seen, what are their lives compared to the lives of their betters. Those with purpose. Lives like my daughters. Like… ours. Stand aside, wanderer. Take the rewards you’ve earned. You have a home now.”

Eira closed her eyes. Her arms felt heavy. All the climbing, shooting, and fighting she had done to get here had taken its toll. She could only imagine how Serana must have felt. Surely she would have be just as exhausted. They both deserved a rest.

The thought came back now, the thought that had haunted her ever since she had laid her hands on that damned bow. Would Serana have made the same choice? Would she have let the world die for her?

“Alright.”

She opened her eyes to find him standing halfway up the causeway, just a hundred yards or so away. She hadn’t realized how much he had moved during their talk. He gave her an expectant look, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ll step aside.” Eira nodded toward him, the slight motion keeping him from speaking as a satisfied smile spread across his face. “If you answer one question. One question, and I walk. Is that fair?”

Harkon’s smile began to stretch at one side, tugging downward in a scowl that quickly disappeared. “And what question is that?”

“Did she know?”

Though Eira lacked the stomach to say more, her fists again clenching around the grip of her bow, Harkon began to answer anyway. “The details of the prophecy were kept from her, but the ultimate goal -”

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

The scowl reappeared, the patience of the vampire lord beginning to wear thin. “Of what, then, do you speak, vagrant?”

“When she was turned. The day you gave her to that monster, did she know what would happen?”

There was a long silence as Eira stared Harkon down. His fists clenched in frustration, opening in closing as Eira waited for an answer he did not want to give. “She did,” he said at last, the words clipped yet somehow still spoken in a drawl. “She was told what was expected of her. It was what she had trained for all those years, the key to our ascension, and to the true potential that lay within her. But, before she was given, I did warn her of… of the trial she would face.”

“And she agreed?”

“Of course she did. She was always like her mother, and I suppose like myself as well. Power draws her in, my dear wanderer. That is why she was drawn to you, I think.”

Eira felt the anger inside her suddenly go cold. The shaking in her hands stopped and the tension left her arms. Her voice was calm, frozen and still as water in winter. “You know what happened to her. I can accept she went on her own - I would have done anything for my family and I can’t imagine she’s any different. But what you did…”

“What I did, I did for her.”

“You never asked her if this is what she wanted. You took what was done to her, what she was forced to endure, and made it so much worse. You took everything that happened to her and made it about you. You’re right. I’m not here to be a hero. I’m not here to save Solitude. I’m here because when this is over, I want to be the one standing over your corpse.”

The arrow shot from the string, straight and true toward Harkon’s sneering lips. She watched as it passed right through his head, skittering off the stone behind him as Harkon burst into gray mist. The cloud swirled in place before falling to the ground, darting straight up the hill toward Eira’s boots.

Eira turned and ran, ripping Vengeance from the stone as she did, pounding through the courtyard, vaulting bodies and slamming shoulder-first into the heavy doors. She turned long enough to see the smoke lash out at where she had fired her arrow, hissing like a serpent and striking toward the door. The door squealed as she shoved it closed. The smoke was already halfway across the courtyard and she doubted solid metal would slow him down for long, but she pushed anyway.

The foyer was a mess. Eira leapt over shattered glasses and broken furniture to find the stairs, climbing madly as she heard the sound of rushing wind behind her. A thin, screeching whistle came from the door, like a tea kettle that had been left too long, as the gray fog forced its way through the cracks to form a whirlwind in the center of the room. Still running toward one of the side passages, Eira watched as the fog began to form into the furious, scowling vampire that now very much wanted her dead.

As she turned the corner and began pelting down the hall, Harkon’s voice caught up to her. “You cannot think you can run from me, Eira.”

She kept running. It had been a long time since she had walked these halls but she still remembered where to go. At least, most of the way. She had never actually been to the High King’s chambers which, if she were betting her life on it, was where she would look to find the Jarl.

Heavy footfalls echoed down the hall behind her and Harkon again called out to her. “The world of mortals cares nothing for you now, vampire. It is not too late to turn back. You have spurned my offer once and for that you will be punished but there is no reason for you to die here today.”

Bodies littered the halls as Eira ran on, listening for any trace of the wind behind her. She marked the footsteps as they came on behind her. This was her plan? Run around the castle, make sure the Jarl was safe in her quarters? She wanted to kill him. She wanted to cut him apart, watch his life fade away as Vengeance sent his soul screaming into the Void.

She rounded another corner and picked a direction at random, hurrying toward what looked like the fancier part of the castle. Serana would be here soon. She just had to buy time. That was all. Buy time until -

The footsteps suddenly sounded ahead of her. Eira turned the corner, planting her feet in a skidding stop as she trained her arrow on the figure crouched around the corner.

“Elisif?!”

The Jarl’s eyes went wide. She held what looked like a magic scroll in one hand and was already moving to unravel it. “That’s Jarl Elisif to you!”

Before she could mutter the incantation, Eira shot forward, grabbing her wrists and pulling her along the hallway.

“What are you -?!”

“There’s a very angry vampire behind me. We need to get you to safety.”

The Jarl, her eyes threatening to pop from their sockets, at least managed to keep her feet beneath her as they ran. “And who are you? What in Oblivion is -”

“You cannot run forever, Eira.” The voice now echoed all around her and the footsteps had been replaced by the low rush of wind from the hall ahead.

Eira skidded to a halt but Elisif was already grabbing at her wrist and pulling her down another hall. “This way,” she hissed, tugging Eira nearly off her feet.

“You know a way out?”

“Of course I do, now hurry up!”

Eira, regaining her footing and easily keeping pace with Elisif as she ran, suppressed an unhappy groan. What was it with her and pushy women?

Another sharp turn and another after that led them to an ornate wooden door. A pile of vampire bodies lay on the threshold but Elisif, feet still in what looked like evening slippers, climbed over them like they were rocks. Eira followed, scampering through the door as the monarch pushed it closed behind them.

Eira stopped, momentarily stunned before blurting “This is -”

“My bedchamber,” Elisif hissed from beside the door.

The room was massive. Eira looked from the dressers to the nightstands to the massive bed that dominated the floor before finding a faint ray of hope. The windows on the far wall, covered in heavy curtains, faced out over the bay.

“There. Come on.” She made a grab for the Jarl’s wrist and made to pull her toward the windows. “Do those open?”

Elisif shook her away, staying pressed up against the door. “Are you mad?!”

Before Eira could answer, Harkon’s voice echoed through the chamber. “It is over, Eira. The enchantments here will not stop me. You know this. Surrender. Come to me. Embrace the gift that I offer.”

Eira tugged at her wrist again. “Windows. Now!”

Harkon’s steps grew louder. Elisif wrenched herself way. “Wait!”

Eira rolled her eyes, grabbing at her arm. She would throw her from the room if she had to. “This door is coming down. We have to go!”

Elisif grabbed her by the collar and yanked on it hard, bringing them face to face. Eira was so stunned that, for a brief moment, she forgot all about the vampire trying to kill them.

“You have been warned. No magic here will -”

There was a blinding flash, a deafening roar, and a sharp pain in her skull as Eira felt the floor reach up and punch her in the back of the head. The room swam into focus under a curtain of white stars as suddenly she was staring up at the ceiling. Her back and neck ached as she tried to sit up, searching dumbly for Elisif.

She saw her, somehow still on her feet and picking her way over the now rubble-strewn floor. Her lips were moving but all Eira could hear was the constant, high-pitched whine. Eira managed to get herself up on one elbow before the woman had hauled her fully upright.

“Come on! You’re supposed to be protecting me, aren’t you?”

Eira stumbled forward as Elisif opened the door and pushed through, only then noticing that half of the wall around it was simply gone. The low groan of the ceiling spurred her onward, scrambling and nearly falling to get through the door before something heavy fell on her. The door, amazingly still intact despite the ruin all around, swung open without a sound.

Of Harkon, there was no sign. Eira did not bother stopping to look for a pile of ashes. She wasn’t that much of an optimist. He would still be here, somewhere, even if that door had done a number on him.

With Elisif beside her, Eira sprinted her way back out of the palace, dragging the Jarl down the stairs and out the door, into the nightmarish world outside. A furious, bone-chilling roar echoed from deeper in the palace. Eira instinctively pushed Elisif further ahead as they ran.

“Go on. Get to the fort. I think I cleared most of them off. You should have a straight shot.”

“What? And what are you going to be doing?”

The doors behind them exploded, their metal frames clattering against the stone with the deafening peal of church bells thrown from their tower. Both of them turned back on instinct and Eira stumbled as she saw the figure looming in the darkness, no longer Harkon but the true vampire lord of Castle Volkihar. His thick, black wings spread behind him in a monstrous curtain, his eyes glowing a deep red that mirrored the sky, every step he took shattering the stone beneath. He carried no weapon in his hands but the gleam of his fangs in the sunlight was terrifying enough.

“I’ll be fine. Get going.” Eira shoved the Jarl further down the causeway and turned, an arrow set and shot before she had gone another step.

Harkon batted it aside like it was nothing and howled. “Foolish girl. I spared you out of love for my daughter. I will not be so merciful again. Bow before your rightful master!”

Eira shot again, her second arrow shattered just as her first had been. She tossed her bow to the side and cursed, Vengeance already sliding from its sheath. “Go!”

Elisif was going. Harkon, his eyes moving from Eira to the Jarl of Solitude making her escape, curled his lip in disgust. A snarl of hatred escaped his lips and his form began to blur, his wings extending in a wide arc behind him. He lurched forward, faster than Eira’s eyes could see. As he did, his snarl rose to an animal roar.

“MOVE!”

Eira moved, and so did Vengeance. As Harkon launched himself from the doorway, sailing at Elisif like a bolt of dark lightning, Eira swung as hard as she could, knowing on instinct where he would be.

Another cry rent the air, this one of sheer agony. Eira stumbled at the impact of Harkon’s frame with her sword, catching herself and shouting again for Elisif to keep running. The dark shape that had been Harkon crumpled to the ground, his dark wings folded around him, one arm clutching his side. Eira scrambled back, readying Vengeance as the vampire got to his feet once more.

Harkon turned, the fleeing Jarl completely forgotten. The wound at his side was a vicious gash of deep black smoke. It looked like it should have cut him in two, but he was still standing. He was not even hurt. His eyes narrowed, their piercing red fires burning into Eira’s skull. She felt herself sliding backward into a guard, Vengeance held before her.

“I will not let you leave.”

The claws on one hand began to extend as red energy arced between them. In the other, purple energy began to swirl, shadows falling between his fingers. Harkon’s legs tensed as he crouched, more animal than man, the blade falling to his side easily, the spell in his other hand held slightly forward.

“Very well. You desire my attention, vagrant? You have it. I will not leave. Not before you kneel.”

There was a flash of black as Harkon’s form tensed, his legs launching him toward Eira faster than her eyes could follow. Only her reflexes saved her and Vengeance was up in time to swing once again at the rushing vampire. This time the blade angled for his shoulder, swinging down and carving through the air where he would have landed. Eira followed through, bringing Vengeance up again as Harkon danced aside, avoiding the strike but unable to land one of his own. He snarled in frustration, his teeth bared.

Eira quick-stepped forward, thrusting toward Harkon’s chest in a feint more suited to a dueling ring than a battlefield. She needed time, and she needed space. Harkon gave her both but not nearly as much as she wanted, coming back in a blur as Eira began shuffling back away from her strike. The claws came out, extending toward her throat in a slash that would have ripped the life from her body had it pushed a few inches closer. Instead, Eira threw herself backward, catching herself on the paving stones and managing to bring Vengeance beside her, its tip pointed right at Harkon’s heart.

“Too long have you held my daughter’s gaze.” Harkon flew forward again, wings kicking up a cloud of dust as they lashed out at the world. This time the crimson magic in his hand seemed to seethe and a thin, sanguinary thread snapped forward to catch Eira in the chest.

It stung like hell and, as it landed, she felt all the muscles in her body tense. It slowed her almost enough for Harkon to catch her, his claws flashing toward her side. She heard the tearing of cloth as her cloak snapped behind her and she saw the faint flutter of torn fabric as Harkon landed, readying for another strike.

“Too long has she indulged in your company.” He struck again, the spell snapping toward her once again. This time she was ready. Eira swung again, batting the monster away in growing desperation. “You were never worthy of her, never worthy of our gift. I shall tear it from your body piece by piece, render you to nothing but the pathetic mortal you will always be.”

Eira spun Vengeance in her hand and swung again. She just had to buy time. Just a little more time. She couldn’t win this fight. Not without help.

Harkon rushed forward again, this time coming in from above as his wings pushed him into the air. Eira saw him coming and, ducking beneath another swipe of his claw, grimacing as that magic in his hands once again sapped her strength, thrust Vengeance upward.

It struck home. Eira’s eyes widened almost as much as Harkon’s. With a great howl, the vampire sunk onto the blade, claws reaching down to rip and tear at Eira’s arms and pull the blade from his chest. She managed to roll to the side, feeling the wind from his strikes as she tried to scramble away.

As Vengeance pulled free, one of Harkon’s legs struck her hard in the side. She felt her ribs crack as she was thrown to the ground in a heap, rolling and gasping until she at last managed to right herself a dozen feet away.

Harkon, on one knee, looked toward Eira with pure hatred. She felt the pain in her side pulse more violently as he did, her muscles growing weaker as they remembered the sting of his magic. Just a little longer. It couldn’t be much longer. Serana would be here and -

Where Harkon had been a moment before, a cloud of bats emerged, screaming and tumbling through the air. Eira scarcely managed to stand up straight before they were all around her, biting and tearing at her armor, latching onto her hair, her cloak, her hands. She nearly dropped Vengeance as she felt a pair of fangs sink deep into her thumb, then her wrist. More and more chewed at her hands and no matter how hard she thrashed, even when Vengeance cleaved through them, she could not stop them. She watched in horror as, through the cloud of swirling black wings, another shadow rose in front of her. The bats began to vanish inside it, chittering, almost laughing as they did. Vengeance rose to meet it.

She felt her arm break.

The bones snapped like they were nothing. She felt it twist in the socket, her arm wrenched to her side by something inhumanly powerful. Vengeance fell from her grasp. She did not even feel it leave her fingers, just watched it clatter against the stone.

When the pain hit her, Eira could do nothing but scream. Her other arm came up, feebly grasping at the claw that now gripped her ruined arm. Blood poured down her sleeve in warm rivers, coating the monstrous hand until it glistened in the light. Her own hand was pathetically small against Harkon’s arm, her own strength pathetic in comparison. He pushed against her and she felt her knees give way. Her shoulder screamed as the bones began to creak.

“There.” The word came as a deep growl, rising from Harkon’s throat as his lips curved in a vicious smile. “At last you see. You kneel, as all mortals do.”

Pain all but blinding her, she felt the sting in her eyes as tears of sheer agony began to blur the world in front of her. Harkon loomed over her, eyes shining like beacons of pure hate. She knew she should find Vengeance but she could not even bring herself to look for it.

Harkon tightened his grip and Eira felt a scream tear itself from her throat as he growled. “I expected better from my daughter. She was so beguiled by you. But, in the end, she was mistaken. You are nothing special. You are nothing at all.”

Her shoulder creaked and, with another scream of agony, shattered under Harkon’s grip.

“I should squeeze the life from your heart now. My daughter will forget you in time. She will learn the shortness of a mortal life is worth nothing more than a passing thought. You are nothing more than a dalliance, a moment’s weakness of hers. I will give you one chance, one final offer. Surrender to me. Give yourself to our cause and I will grant you your miserable life.” His hand gripped tighter. Eira felt his claws pierce her back and chest, blood falling down the front of her armor. “Choose, vagrant. My patience is at an end.”

The words were there. Eira felt them clawing at her throat. She had been tormented before but this was too much. It had been madness to ever resist. She could no more fight against him than she could against a storm. It was over.

Eira’s vision began to clear. She felt Harkon’s claws but the sting of them was gone. The feeling of agony was one replaced by an almost lightheaded stupor. The world became sharp again as the tears fell from the corners of her eyes. She saw Vengeance on the ground beside her but her eyes did not linger. They wandered from Vengeance, away from Harkon, and down the causeway toward Solitude.

Harkon noticed, and suddenly Eira was forgotten. She felt the claws recede as the monster turned. She felt herself begin to fall limp but the air itself caught her. She felt warmth in her chest, washing over her wounds and pulling her gently toward the ground.

And, as her shoulders came to rest against the stone, she felt herself smile as Death herself lowered her hand, closing the worst of Eira’s wounds before turning her attention on Harkon. There was no softness in her voice now. Now the wind had turned to a stormfront, a gale that would sweep away all before it. She did not shout or scream, but spoke in a voice of pure, unyielding command.

When she spoke, the lightning in her fingers sparked, and Serana’s voice rolled like booming thunder. “You shall not touch her.”


	51. The Daughter of Coldharbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serana confronts her father in Solitude. Alicia and the Dawnguard face off against the vampire horde.

“Serana -”

Harkon barely had time to raise his hand in a ward before it exploded in bright sparks of orange as the lightning struck him. Like a hammer on hot iron, the ward exploded in fire that left Serana’s eyes burning.

She ignored it, feeling more sparks coarse down her arm to coalesce between her fingers. “How dare you lay your hands on her!”

Wings beating against the night, Harkon backed away from where Eira had fallen, hands still raised as another ward crackled in place. “My daughter -”

The next bolt slammed into the ward, this time arcing off to the side, sending bits of stone scattering upward in a geyser of broken masonry. “Do not call me that!”

“No matter how angry you are, you can never change what you are, Serana.” His wings carried him backward toward the castle and off toward one side of the stone bridge. “You will always be my daughter, and had you arrived sooner, you would have heard what that means to me.”

Another bolt scattered against his ward as once again the pale blue shield flickered out in a burst of bright sparks. “I can see exactly what it means to you, father. This prophecy meant more to you than I ever did.”

“This prophecy -”

“Needed my blood!” This time the lightning broke through the ward and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air, the bolt arcing through one of her father’s wings. “And you took it from me. You had an assassin take my blood, leaving me to die on that tower! If Eira had not saved me -”

Stumbling to one side, Harkon snarled and raised his hands again, this time casting a bolt of his own. Serana batted it aside with one hand but even through the rage that blinded her she felt the strain of her ward as she did. “If you had listened to your father, none of this would have happened!”

“Is that your answer? If I had just obeyed you blindly?”

Another bolt crackled to life in her right hand while the cool comfort of her ward spell filled her left. She watched as her father called flames to one hand, the deep orange and red nearly choked off when he clenched his fist. “Not blindly. I asked only for you to trust me. This is what was best for our kind! Surely you can see that now!”

When no fire came, Serana kept moving, stalking forward to put herself between Eira and her father. She dared not take her gaze off her father, even to make sure Eira was alright. She forced herself not to look at the wounds on her body, still weeping red even as she lay motionless on the ground. She could not even see whether or not her eyes were still open. Eira was motionless on the ground, and Harkon stood between Serana and saving her life.

Serana pushed up the slope, taking quick steps passed the woman she loved. She had to move the fight away from here. “This? You think this is the best for us? The whole world will rise up against us now, and even you cannot think that we can face them all alone.”

Harkon shook with mirth, the deep red of the sun gleaming off his fangs. “No, not alone. Your mother made the same mistake. Always locked away with your books, just as she locked herself away with her work. You never saw what I did, how many of us there were, waiting to strike against the world. In every cave in Skyrim, vampires cower in the shadows, afraid of the very prey they should be hunting. I found them, took them in, gave them a purpose. And now look! Solitude is ours. All of Skyrim is ours. And it took only a single night.”

The memories of Whiterun, Dragon Bridge, and a dozen other villages only added more fuel to the fire burning in her chest. Without even answering the insanity coming from her father’s mouth, she willed the arcane energy in her hand to slow, become piercingly cold, and hurled it at the monster backing its way toward the Blue Palace. The spear-like shaft of ice cut through the air with less grace than one of Eira’s arrows but travelled with considerably more heft.

This time her father’s ward flickered and burst in burning ribbons of bright blue. She heard him grunt in pain and, as the light began to fade, she saw him rip the length of the spear from his side and toss it to the ground. His breathing grew ragged, the sound carrying like the deep rush of a blacksmith’s bellows. She knew better than to believe it had truly injured him but she felt the rush of victory regardless.

Harkon glowered at her through the red and black twilight. “I have shown you nothing but patience and forgiveness, Serana. Your indulgences for adventure, hoping you would come to see for yourself the truth of what you have been taught, your indulgences for these pets you choose to keep.”

He stabbed one clawed finger toward the ground behind Serana and she tensed, knowing he pointed at Eira’s unmoving form and readying herself to stop whatever he sent to kill her. “She has done more for me in her short time than you have in all your long years, father.”

“Spoken like a true child. I have spoiled you for far too long, Serana. My patience is at an end.”

“When did it start?” Serana spat, stepping in front of where Eira had fallen and readying another spear of ice.

Her father, fists clenched, sighed through his teeth, the air hissing violently around his fangs. “Do you think these movements of yours were clever? That you went unseen?”

He raised his hand and Serana watched as lightning formed at his fingertips. She raised her ward in time to knock the blow aside again, the force of it slamming against her mind like a battering ram. The ward held but she could not keep it from flickering.

“Did you believe yourself clever as you scoured the world for these Elder Scrolls? You were never more than a step ahead of my own agents, following always in your tracks, and your thoughts have always been two steps behind my own. All that you have done, all you have accomplished, was at my whim and through my mercy.”

Another bolt struck her shield. Serana shouldered it aside, returning her own blast of lightning up the slope. The light was nearly blinding but there was no sharp crack of impact against the ward that should have been there. She blinked away the bright scars on her eyes just in time to see her father, hands raised, begin spewing frost down the hill toward her. Serana bolted up the hill, pushing her way toward the side of the causeway and drawing the freezing blast away from Eira.

The ball of frust dissipated abruptly, coating the ground in a thin layer of perfect ice. Serana’s boots were suddenly over her head as she slammed back against the stone, her vision once again going white as the pain flooded through her.

Her father’s words echoed hollowly as, on instinct, she healed herself enough to understand the words. “The place in your heart that you have given to this mortal is a waste, your care for her far greater than one of her kind deserves. You think you feel love for her? In this, your first adventure in this age, you believe you have found someone worth even a fleeting moment of your time?”

Serana had started sliding down the bridge, so slick was the stone beneath her. It took her concentrating on the air around her, heating it with a burst of flame that coarsed along the stone before she was able to stand again. Her father stood near the top of the bridge, at the edge of the courtyard at the front of the palace.

“You are but a child, Serana. No more proof should be needed than the woman who lies broken behind you. She is a mortal at heart, and no more deserving of your strength than any of their kind, but she still lives. You have given her our gift. You have given her eternal life! And you have only known this girl for a span of weeks. You were always strong of heart, my girl, but I had thought that time, and loss, would temper you.”

Serana caught her feet and, while her father spoke, willed the magic in her hand to swell. She felt the warm touch of flame grow hotter, burning the exposed flesh of her hand until she struggled to keep the pain from her face. As he finished speaking, she brought her hand forward, throwing the ball of flame up the slope as though she were nothing more than a novice mage first learning the motions of casting.

The blast caught Harkon off guard and his ward was still crackling to life when the flames engulfed him. Hot air rushed around her, tossing her hair and sending her cloak snapping out behind her. Echoes of the explosion carried into the distance, ringing in her ears as she steadied herself against the rolling thunder.

Serana stood, shaking her hand beside her as the cool air caressed the burnt skin. “You should know better than anyone, father, how stubborn I can be.”

Harkon was no longer standing on the bridge when the smoke cleared. The flames parted, the stone growing steady once more as the last of the tremors faded. Serana watched as wisps of grey smoke curled out from the center of the blast and slowly came to rest at the edge of the courtyard, spinning faster and faster until they began to grow solid.

“This woman found me in darkness. She freed me, trusted me, healed me, gave more to me than I had any right to ask. I did not give this as a gift to her. If it were within my power, I would take it away from her, let her live a normal life and die old and grey in her bed. She carries this burden because she wished only to help me, and because I was not strong enough to carry it alone.”

She felt the flames being to burn in her hand once again, lightning arcing to life between her fingers. “And if you had your way, she would have ended her days on our dinner table. As short as her life would have been, it would have been no less meaningful than one of ours. I won’t let you turn them all to cattle for the sake of your vanity. So come and face me, father. If this prophecy means so much to you, show me, because you will get no more of my blood unless you draw it from me yourself.”

The smoke turned from grey to black as it solidified into the shape of Harkon. His wings unfurled beside him, claws even now scratching at and breaking the stone beneath him, he stared down the slope at Serana. Slowly a bit of red began to pool in one hand, pure shadow falling from the other.

“So be it.”

 

Alicia heard the loud pang of the arrow puncturing her shield even more than she felt its bite. The force of the shot knocked her from her feet, the uneven ground betraying her as the rock itself seemed to shift. She managed to catch herself before going down in an undignified heap but the shot stopped her in her tracks.

The vampires had not wasted a moment. From where Alicia was standing, or rather where she was kneeling, she could see the distant falls and steep cliffs that led to Skyrim’s sprawling tundra and the distant city of Whiterun. It was so close, now, that she could practically see the hilltop city, the legendary mead hall of Jorvaskr sitting proudly below the Skyforge itself and, beyond, the great keep of Dragonreach.

Legendary as they were, they were all in flames now, according to Aela.

She pushed herself to her feet, quickly steadying herself as she sought out the archer. Blackened and scarred, she still intended to see them, right before she rammed her sword through the heart of whoever had burned them down.

The archer proved to be a vampire skulking behind a sheer piece of rock jutting up out of the earth. Alicia turned to face him and, in so doing, returned to the fight she had just picked with a dozen angry thrall. As he readied another arrow, she could do little more than menace him, bringing her sword down on the shaft that still protruded from her shield. It sheared off with a satisfying snap but she doubted the monster could hear it.

Before he could release another shot, Alicia threw herself back into the fray. She lashed out with her shield, using her weight to catch the nearest thrall off balance and throwing him back into his friends. She caught the next with her shield, slashing to the right and catching it in the flank as it rushed toward one of the Dawnguard fighting nearby.

The battle for control of the lowlands had quickly turned into a chaotic brawl between pockets of separated Dawnguard and an irregular, disorganized stream of howling thrall. As Alicia and the soldiers around her punched their way forward, she did her best to keep her head above the chaos. She pushed her way to the side, using her shield to plow her way through the coming thrall and tossing them onto the rocks nearby, eventually cresting another broken ridge.

She managed to peer eastward toward the rest of her forces for a few seconds, catching glimpses of the battle unfolding near the mountain, before another thrall came scrambling up the ridge to challenge her. It swung a massive battleaxe toward her ankles like he was chopping down a tree. Alicia managed to hop away, skidding on the rock but keeping her feet as the axe whooshed beneath her. The thrall failed to keep his, overbalancing and stumbling as his strike met empty air. It was getting easier to cut them down, to see them as inhuman. They had always been thrall. It was how it had to be. Otherwise, it was simply too horrible to think about.

The next set of boots on the rock were worn by Dawnguard soldiers as they poured over the ridge, rushing around Alicia and over the thrall she had just slain. There were more trying to climb up the rocks below, or there were until the Dawnguard got ahold of them.

With a moment to herself, Alicia again surveyed the field. They were pushing west faster than she had anticipated. She could see her scouts harrying the last of the vampires on this side of the field, crossbows snapping away as they chased whoever was still alive back toward Windhelm. Alicia had placed herself on this flank because she had expected the vampires to hit harder, anticipating their movement toward Whiterun and cutting them off. Instead, she had gotten off easy.

Blasts of ice and fire marked Illia’s continued efforts on the eastern flank. The mountain rising high above them, it would have been tempting to send a few shock troops over the side to hit the vampires in a sensitive spot. No one seemed willing to give the order. The mountain stood defiant, haunted, and no one dared set foot on its slopes.

As she watched, she flagged down one of the scouts scampering toward her lines. “What news?”

“We’ve opened the road, ma’am. Ricca says she’s got some of us near the falls already.”

“Any sign of trouble?”

“No, ma’am. Nothing but these assholes.” The man gestured vaguely toward the vampires still putting up a fight on this side of the field. “She said she’ll keep pushing west until you tell her to stop.”

“Good work. Tell her not to go too far. We’ll have to remain here a bit longer but she should be seeing us shortly.”

“Ma’am?”

Alicia nodded toward the east. “We let them run amuck and those people in Darkwater will never make it back to Riften. We’ll pull them toward us slowly, try to draw them west with us.”

“Understood.”

“Get back to Ricca. And on your way, send someone back to the medical tents. Start moving them west. I don’t want them hanging out behind us where the vampires can get them.”

The scout nodded and hurried off, finding one of Alicia’s runners just at the bottom of the ridge. Alicia watched the runner dart off toward the south. Thorvald and his healers were set up just outside Darkwater, close enough to the front to receive and quickly treat any wounded coming out of the line but far enough away to avoid any stray fireballs. That was where there most vulnerable people were. It was also where Talia was.

Alicia had sent her away, knowing she would be both safer and more useful among those who needed her skills. She felt better, or at least she should have felt better, knowing the girl was as far from danger as she could be, but Alicia was already missing her shadow. She felt like she had lost an arm. The girl might not have looked like it but she had a way about her, a presence that lent so much calm to Alicia’s mind. Not to mention she was a good deal sharper than Alicia and could hear a mouse’s heartbeat a hundred yards away. It did wonders for her, knowing someone like that was standing at her back.

It was better off this way. The girl was safe, as she should have been, and those she looked after were better for her attention.

It took a while for them to finally reach Alicia’s ridge. She watched as Illia forced her way nearly to the base of the mountain, the Dawnguard forming up behind her as she carved through them like a ship through dark water. The ground they fought on was less broken than where Alicia stood, giving her a better idea of how her people were faring.

As they rounded the base of Alicia’s ridge, another group of thrall began pushing their way up the slope. The Dawnguard that had gathered around her were soon fighting for their lives, Alicia doing her best to stay with them. She lashed out with her punctured shield, shoving one after another down the slope. Her sword became a cudgel, no longer slashing to kill but to shove the coming tide off balance and toss them back onto the rocks below. The sounds of battle filled her ears, broken too often by cries of agony from those around her. She watched as one thrall threw itself on top of a soldier beside her, latching itself around him with arms and legs and biting down against his shoulder. The man tried to break free but lost his footing, tumbling to the rocks below where dozens of thrall waited to tear him apart. Alicia ground her teeth to dust and fought that much harder, kicking a charging thrall square in the head and sending it flying back into the open air.

She tried to pull back to the ridgeline but every time she moved, another thrall seemed to appear in front of her. This was supposed to be all clear. Talia and the other healers would be moving up behind them. If even one of these things got through, it could mean the end of dozens of wounded and helpless soldiers.

Another thrall charged, then another, and Alicia found herself struggling to keep her footing on the stone. She pushed forward with her shield, trying to shove another off but this one latched on, grasping at the rim with desperate, scratching fingers. She shoved forward with her sword, prying it away with the sickening sound of metal piercing flesh. There were still more coming and she was off balance. She dropped to one knee, catching herself as her ankle gave out.

She heard someone calling behind her. “Captain!”

She turned just in time to see dozens of bolts zip overhead, a storm of black feathers that fell upon the charging thrall. The line shuddered like a thing alive, roiling at the sudden impact. She watched the bodies begin to tumble down the slope, howling no longer in rage but in pitiful desperation. Those that still lived tried to limp up the slope, the weight of their charge broken in one volley. A few more crossbows snapped and each thrall fell with at least a dozen feathers in its body.

Alicia pulled herself up in time to see Scout Ricca hurrying down the slope toward her. “Captain, are you alright?”

“Doing fine,” Alicia grumbled as she pulled herself to her feet, not noticing until she had fully risen the hand offered by Ricca. “I thought we were clear on this side.”

“So did I. But this place is a maze. It would take weeks to root out all the cracks and caves between here and the mountains.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were on the way to Whiterun.”

Ricca motioned toward the group of scouts that had joined her. All carried the traditional crossbow of the Dawnguard but sported lighter armor and a good deal more bolts than the rest of them. “I was, then I saw this lot moving toward you. Came running as fast as we could. Don’t worry, the path up is still clear.”

She pointed over her shoulder toward the distant waterfall and the steep, cliffside paths that would take them up to Whiterun. Alicia surveyed the damage her scouts had done, looking once again at the distant mountain and the rest of her people. “Good. Your timing could not have been better.”

“Well, it could have been a little better, but thank you.”

Alicia rolled her eyes. “I’m alive, and that’s more than what might have been otherwise. I’ll take that any day.”

As they were speaking, Thorvald was ushering his charges along the path below, pointing them along the snaking path to the west. There were fewer wounded than she had expected, and a lot of them were walking. She spotted surprisingly few stretcher bearers among them. She hoped that was a good sign.

She also spotted Talia breaking off from the procession and scampering her way easily up the side of the slope. The girl was like a mountain goat, hopping about like that.

“These are all you brought?” Alicia gestured toward the crossbowmen still scattered along the ridge.

“I’ve got a few eyes out, but yes.”

“Good. Take Thorvald and the wounded off toward Whiterun. I’m going to start pulling us off toward the city.” She looked down as Talia nimbly planted herself at the top of the ridge, her boots hardly even scattering the innumerable pebbles beneath her feet. “We’ve done what we can here. The people of Darkwater will have a good head start. If they are followed to Riften, those we left behind will prove more than capable of protecting them.”

Ricca smiled. “I’m looking forward to kicking some vampire ass, ma’am. Are we really going to do it? Cross the ocean, storm the castle, the whole thing?”

“You are much too excited about facing a vampire lord in his lair, Ric.”

“If we can’t even do that, what’s the point of being a vampire hunter?”

“The recruiter told me there would be free food.”

Ricca chuckled. “That’s what sold you, was it?”

Alicia gave her a light cuff on the shoulder. “Get going. I’ll start making my way east and -”

_ROOOOOOOAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!_

The most ungodly roar Alicia had ever heard rent the air. Her hands covered her ears instinctively but it seemed to be coming from inside her head. She felt her chest rattle at the sound of it, her heart quivering beneath her ribs.

All three of them turned in silent horror toward the source of the scream. The Dawnguard on the ridgeline muttered to one another, pure terror creeping into their whispers. She heard a hundreds of words, dozens of curses, but only one word that resonated. It was repeated, over and over, passed from each pair of quivering lips like a promise, like saying its name would turn its gaze away.

Even at so great a distance, Alicia heard the rush of air, the deep, fatidic beat of wings. Another roar seemed to shake the very ground. Pebbles rolled down the slope in an avalanche no one could hear over the scream of the beast.

Alicia watched as, over the distant mountain, two great, black wings spread into the darkened sky. She watched as a massive form rose into the air, each beat of its giant wings taking it higher into the sky. Suddenly the wings stopped, and the creature fell, crashing into the peak of the mountain. It clawed at the side, finding purchase at its height, a monstrous tail hanging from the lip. An elongated head reared into the sky, held aloft by a serpentine neck that curled up and over the battlefield. It slowly moved from one side to the other, eyes fixed on those that had once fought below.

“Dragon.” Alicia managed to say the word just as Ricca began fervently muttering a prayer beneath her breath. “Dragon. What in - where - how did -”

Ricca started shouting behind her, shoving her scouts down the hill. “Go! Go! Get everyone out! Get to Whiterun!”

Alicia just stared. She watched as the jaws opened once more and a another roar shattered the air around them. Those that still stood in terror now began to run. She could see her Dawnguard turning and running for the hills. The thrall seethed around the base of the mountain, chasing after them in gleeful hordes. She watched as her people were cut down as they ran, pulled to their deaths as they tried to get away.

“No.”

The wings beat against the air, raising it above the mountain once again. She watched as it hovered for a moment, its head hanging down as it loomed over the tiny figures below. As it reared its head back, Alicia could already hear the deep breath filling its lungs. It was like the beast was right in front of her.

She felt the heat explode from its gaping maw, and she screamed as though she was standing beneath it. “NO!”

The fire washed over thrall and Dawnguard alike, burning a black swathe through the fleeing figures. She watched the monster beat against the air, rising higher, its form elongating as it began to fly, circling the battlefield faster than anything she had ever seen.

Ricca was still shouting behind her. “Get everyone out! We’re leaving! Now!”

Alicia turned, shaking off the numbness and horror. Her people were dying. She had to save them. “Yes. Pull back. Pull back! Get everyone away! We’re going to Whiterun. Runners! Make haste. Anyone trapped on that side of the field should run to Riften. Just get safe. That’s all they can do. Talia, can - Talia?”

The girl was gone. Alicia spun around, panicked. Everyone was running, shoving one another, falling over themselves in terror. She tried to call out but someone slammed into her from behind and Ricca’s voice filled her ears. “Get down!”

As she slammed into the rock, there was a terrifying rush of air above her head. She craned her neck to see the black shape of the dragon fly overhead, wings beating slowly as it circled the mountain. Another roar burst from its gaping maw and fire swept down onto the rocks above. She heard the screams as if they were her own, felt the heat wash over her with such intensity she thought she would be cooked alive.

Ricca was hauling her to her feet. “We have to go. Come on, come on!”

“Talia?” Alicia stumbled as Ricca pulled her up, still looking around for her missing shadow.

Her heart seized as she spotted it. There, vaulting over rocks like they were nothing, practically flying across the ground, was Talia, running straight into the fight. Straight toward the mountain.


	52. The Dragonborn Comes

Fire washed over the ground in front of her like an unstoppable tide, the flames howling with the screams of those trapped inside them. Talia felt the heat wash over her even as she tried to press herself into the ground, arms covering her face in a futile effort to protect against the storm.

Everyone was dying. Crossbows snapped and the tiny bolts of black arced upward but the monster did not even seem to care. It just shrugged them off and kept killing. It didn’t even care who it was killing, it just burned everything in its path, vampire and Dawnguard alike.

Talia felt her heart beating right out of her chest, felt the breath wheezing through a chest now crushed by sheer terror. Her arms were shaking almost as badly as her legs. She felt like she was running into a sharp headwind, her legs not moving the way they should as she stumbled and fell over the rocky ground. Her clothes felt like they had been soaked in canal water. Suddenly she was back in Riften, running through the Ratway, soaked to the bone, hiding from Valen and his thugs. She had never been so scared.

The dragon beat its giant wings against the air, pushing itself onward, over the masses of fleeing Dawnguard to burn the horde of thrall. More screams echoed over the rocks as Talia threw herself into a ravine, skidding over the rocks and tumbling into the tiny shadows of safety.

She landed on top of someone. Untangling the cloak from her arms, she pushed herself up to see someone in Dawnguard gear shivering inside the trench, mute with terror. His eyes were almost completely white. As Talia pushed herself to her knees, scrambling to the edge of the ravine, he did not say a word. All he could do was shake and stare. She was not Alicia, but she knew the man needed comfort.

“It’ll be okay.”

That was all she could manage, her own chest shaking so badly the words came out in a jumble. Her tongue felt heavy and all she wanted to do was curl up beside him and sob. He said nothing. Not even his eyes blinked.

“Okay? I promise. It’ll be okay. Okay. I - it’s okay.” Talia felt herself babbling and began bobbing her head. “It’s okay.”

The dragon roared again as it passed behind the mountain. The man jumped, his eyes going even wider. Talia just stared back at him for a moment. He wasn’t listening and she was in no position to help him.

But she had to go. She peered up over the edge of the rock, looking past the blackened rocks, the burnings husks that had once been human beings, and tried to find a way up the rocks. There was something up there. She knew there was. She could hear something, a voice, calling her the hill. It could help her.

She looked down at the terrified man one more time, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and hauled herself over the top. Loose rock crunched beneath her boots as she ran, pulling herself over boulders and sometimes scrambling on all fours just to get over the next ridge a little faster. The sounds she heard as she ran were beyond description. The shrieks of those still aflame as they danced like brilliant torches, the moans of those blackened and charred so badly they no longer looked like living things, and the wails of terror from those whose minds had gone. There was nothing she could do but run and follow the voice.

The mountain was even more imposing as she began climbing over its base. It looked like a dragon layer. It looked so much like a dragon layer it was insane they had not noticed it before all this had started. The bleached bones of giant creatures littered the slopes and Talia found herself crawling beneath vast, rib cage arches and over broken skulls to reach the far side of the mountain. She was not sure what she was looking for, but the voice kept telling her to go forward, so she hoped she would know it when she saw it.

The screams came again as she found the trail. She froze, stumbling to one knee as a rock caught her by surprise. Alicia would be okay. She was still out there, against a dragon, in the open, with no one to help her, but she would be okay. She always was.

Up the mountain the voice called her, and Talia pushed her way up the sloping path. It was not so much a single path but a series of slopes that she could at least pull herself over where rock slides and sheer cliffs did not completely block her way. It took her far longer than she wanted, and with every rush of air and vicious roar that ripped from the dragon’s maw, she found herself pushing even harder.

Talia grabbed the lip of the next rock and pulled, rolling over the edge to find nothing in front of her. She stopped, staring blankly at what she could now clearly see was the nest of the great monster raining fire on her friends. It was a horrifying sight. There were piles of bone in every corner, the burned refuse of its meals still littering the ground. She saw a massive figure, at least twenty feet in height, torn apart in the center of the space, its sides blackened with flame everywhere except its face. Her stomach roiled at the sight and she found herself tumbling down the rocks just to keep her mind occupied.

She landed in the dirt as softly as she could, looking fervently around for anything she could use. The lair was massive, the size of the palace in Riften. She scuttled over mounds of dirt and bones, around the half-eaten meals and wreckage collected by the monster.

In the far corner, a gleam of golden light caught her eye, and as she climbed over the remains of another poor creature, Talia saw the dragon’s hoard. A mountain of gold so large she could have built a home inside it was pushed up against one of the rock faces. Gems sparkled from a thousand different places, swords and spears and great weapons that shone in the sun all lay in heaps atop the gleaming bed of treasure. For the briefest of moments, Talia forgot all about the dragon, and just stared in awe at the mountain of wealth. She could have done anything, lived anywhere. She could have bought Riften outright. She could have -

The voice came again, louder this time. Talia blinked, heard the dragon roar as it unleashed another blast of fire on the rocks outside, and tore herself away from the hoard.

She could hear it so clearly now. It was coming from the far wall of the lair, the voice almost becoming a chant. As she padded her way over the soft, blackened earth, she thought she could hear other voices beginning to join the first until they formed a ghostly chorus. It took her a few moments to pick her way through the bones and over the bits of refuse that littered the ground, but soon she could begin to make out something just ahead of her.

It looked like stone, like a monument. It didn’t have the same color as the rest of the rocks, its shape too smooth and artistic to be a natural thing. She began to make out carvings along the edges that began to form shapes. Soon, she could make out what appeared to be the likeness of a large dragon, wings extended to either side, folding itself around a tablet of strange letters. There were glyphs and little pictures all around that Talia could not understand but appeared to make perfect sense and she had absolutely no idea why.

As she approached, the voices became louder. The world seemed to fade around her, everything turning black except for the stone tablet. She held one hand to her head as with each beat of her heart her skull began to throb. The symbols began to glow. Three of them turned blue, brighter and brighter until they were almost white.

Talia tried to scream but there was no sound. The voices kept chanting, the world fading to a deep black except for what was written in the stone.

 

Serana strained as her ward began to splinter, shouting in pure fury as her father unleashed a storm from his fingertips. Lightning bolts crashed into the stone, chips of it rocketing skyward with every successive crack, and still more burst in showers of bright sparks against the pale shield Serana held in her hands. The power behind it was unbelievable, but she forced herself to stand firm.

The electricity in the air did not fade when the bolts stopped. There was too much magic, too much power being wielded here. Serana forced herself to open her eyes and look beyond the dozens of brilliant scars to find the black form now looming near the palace gates. She let the ward fizzle, dropped one hand to her side, and took her revenge.

An ice spike the size of her arm shot from her palm, its point aimed directly for her father’s heart. It was easily blocked, shattering harmlessly against a ward he readied at the flick of a wrist, but she knew it would be. The next one was just as easy. As was the next, and the next, and all the dozens that followed. Shot after shot, spear after spear zipped over the broken stone to strike the center of his waiting ward. The brilliant blue of her ice nearly matched the tone of his waiting ward, but it was not long before the ground around Harkon was covered in shards of ice. His focus on the ward, its surface now shimmering from the constant impacts, he did not notice as Serana’s free hand began to twirl.

The shards of ice around his feet began to spin and move, collecting themselves together in a slow-forming whirlwind of glittering ice. Serana willed them to rise up, the wind a mere whisper as it began to pick up speed. Soon a whirlwind of ice had gathered at Harkon’s feet. Serana continued hammering his ward with ice, no longer even looking to see if it had made a crack in the ethereal shield. By the time he looked down, the storm was already billowing around him, and he could not stop it when Serana brought it suddenly and violently upward.

Harkon nearly vanished in the sudden rush of blue and white. It looked strange, tinted red by the wounded sun, but the ice was no less deadly for that. She watched her father’s ward flicker, this time nearly vanishing in surprise as his attention suddenly shifted. Her next shot nearly took him in the chest, the faint shimmer of magic only just managing to push the icy spear under his left wing. She heard his enraged snarling from down the slope, watching the wings battered and tormented by the swirling cloud, and did her best to focus on them. This was not her father anymore. This was a monster.

She watched as her storm swirled, tearing holes in the wings as it howled and grew into a cyclone of vicious blades. The black form within writhed and thrashed against it but the wind refused to die. Serana felt him willing her spell to die, forcing her to drop one hand and stop the hail of ice spikes she had continued to throw at him. It took all her concentration to keep the whirlwind going but it was working. She saw his ward shatter, his arms now milling, swinging wildly at the air around him. He looked crazed.

It was almost sad to see. He was supposed to be stronger. He should have known to stop the spell by crushing it with magic, not by crushing the ice in his claws.

With a roar of frustration, Harkon’s wings extended and beat a single time against the stone, sending his darkened form skyward. Serana let the ice spin out of control, dropping the spell the moment the black form cleared the tornado. She watched for his hands to light up with his next spell but she saw nothing. Only seething, animal rage.

She watched as his gaze finally fell on her and saw nothing in his eyes. It should have made this easier.

His wings curling behind him, Harkon fell like a meteor, smashing into the stones hard enough to make the ground shake. Before the dust had settled, his form began to swirl with red energy. Serana recognized it in a heartbeat and had just enough time to brace herself before the first bolt lashed out at her.

The life draining spell snapped against her ward like a serpent, its sharpened point sizzling like water on a hot stove as it tried to sap the energy from Serana’s barrier. Harkon’s voice boomed over it. “Is this to be our end, daughter of mine? Do you intend to kill your own father?”

“I never wanted to kill you!” Serana forced the searching magic aside, returning her own fireball from over the top of her ward. She didn’t expect it to hit, she just wanted him moving. “You could have left all of this alone! No one needed to die.”

“We are vampires, child. For us to live, someone always has to die.” Harkon almost lazily danced around her fire, eyes still focused on the ward between them. “That was something you never understood, even as you took your meals, the body of one of these mortals lying warm before you. There is never peace between us. There can never be peace. This end, this eternal night, places us where we deserve to be. Where you will be safe, where all of us can walk beneath the sky as is our right.”

She winced as the magic slammed into her ward, lunging sharply around the side and striking for her neck. It nearly found her and for a moment, her ward flickered. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You know this as well as I. This is greed, father, and it is pride. What could you hope to do with so much blood at your feet? It would take an eternity to consume every life in Skyrim. You don’t need all of them. What point is there to destroying their lives?”

“What fascination takes you with these low creatures? Perhaps all this can be laid at my feet because I never thought to ask. What is it, Serana? Why pretend innocence where there is none and have a care for the lives you steal?”

“I never pretended to be innocent!” A bolt of white lightning blasted from her fingertips, snaking through the air to strike Harkon in the chest. His own ward barely had time to form and the red tendril of magic vanished as Harkon clutched his burning side. Part of his wing had burned away, the hole in it now ringed by glowing orange.

Serana clenched her fist, catching her breath in the brief lull as her father regained his feet. “I have taken my share of lives, father. I have done things that no god can ever forgive, but while my hands are stained with more blood than I can wash away, that does not mean I need to bathe in it.”

Harkon coughed in what might have been a burst of derisive laughter. “Why not? These creatures are nothing to you. Their blood is no more meaningful than a dog’s.”

“You were like them, once. Have you forgotten that? What if you had been taken by another vampire before you became immortal? What if you had just been cattle?”

“Then I would have deserved -”

“You are denying them the right to choose, father. If you had listened to me, if you understood what I went through to get here, you would understand. I would never take that from them. Nothing could be worse. That is why you have to stop. Take the bow and end this. I know you can. I have your arrows. I found them at Volkihar. Give me the bow. Go home.”

Her father, claws extended, fangs bared, his form distorted into the monster created by Molag Bal and the sacrifice of his daughter, seethed but did not speak. Part of her knew he was too far gone. It was grossly unfair. He deserved another chance. When he did not speak, Serana tried again.

“I do not blame you! The prophecy was no tool of yours, but of another. It found you, it took you, and now there is nothing left. I do not blame you for falling victim to it. But you stop this. I won’t let you burn the world for another dead man’s vengeance.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I found him, the man - the elf who created the prophecy. I killed him. For what he did to you, to our family, and now to the world. His body is lying in the snow somewhere, far down on the side of some forgotten mountain.” Serana watched as her father’s eyes narrowed, his fists opening and closing as she spoke. “It’s done. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

She said the words, but even as she did, she knew they meant nothing. They fell on deaf ears, but it did not change that they were formed by a lying tongue. This had always been their ending.

Harkon snarled in defiance. “No. No, it does not have to end like this. If you will not see reason, then I will force it upon you.”

The ground beneath her suddenly glowed bright red. Even without looking down, Serana knew the symbols. The fire rune brightened, its perfect glyphs disturbed by the shifting of her boots. She closed her eyes, desperately trying to raise her ward, and felt the blast consume her.

She heard her own scream like it came from someone else. The sky stared down at her as she rolled on her back, trying to right herself by pushing up on one shoulder. Her legs were in agony, screaming in blistering pain as she tried to heal whatever had been done. She saw fires burning on her trousers and the sides of her cloak, saw blackened flesh between the singed edges of her clothing.

Harkon was speaking but it was in words she could not understand. She furious poured the biting cold of healing magic on her own battered form, her head growing light from the strain. The world seemed to dim as she did. She saw the hulking form stomping towards her, his wings hanging behind him like a shroud.

She tried to life herself on to her elbows but she felt so weak. The tears of pain that had clouded her eyes began to fall away, giving her a clear enough view to see a spell hanging in each of his hands.

“It was a mistake to let you walk freely in the world. I should have kept you locked away. I will not make the same mistake again. Your blood will bring about a new age of eternal night, this darkness will not fade, and you will never live to see it.”

There was a flash of metal and a scream of pain. Serana watched as her father staggered, nearly losing his footing as something struck him in the chest. His hand grasped at something now jutting from his chest and even with her mind addled by so much pain she knew who had thrown the knife.

Harkon stood, his eyes darting away from where Serana was trying to stand. “You! I was gracious enough to spare you this long. No more!”

Serana launched herself to her feet. She saw the spell forming in his palm, the air crackling between his fingers. “No!”

The bolt snapped down the slope. She heard it strike home, the stone splintering as the lightning arced into the earth.

And she heard Eira cry out in pain.

“NO!”

The first bolt struck her father in the chest, leaving embers burning on the skin where it had struck. He turned to face her, a ward crackling into place as he did, but it was not fast enough. Another struck him in the arm. The ward did not shatter but melted away, its magic never fully forming the shield it was intended to be. A ball of flame struck Harkon in the shoulder, bursting with a deafening boom and sending him lurching to the ground. He tried to rise, one arm, hanging limply at his side, but a shard of ice longer than a greatsword pierced him through the gut.

He stared down at it, grasping weakly with his free arm. Serana charged toward him, eyes unseeing except for a haze of sanguine red. She reached him as he extended his arm, no magic forming between his fingers.

She batted it aside and, with the dagger he had given her so long ago, lunged for her father’s heart.

 

The dragon swooped low overhead, burning its way across the rocks with a horrible, wailing roar. Alicia raised her crossbow and fired, screaming in rage as it passed above. She did not even look to see if her shot hit, just loaded another bolt.

Ricca was shouting behind her, moving more and more people into the thin bit of shelter offered by the woods at the base of the cliffs. They had come so far and been so brave in the face of so much death and darkness. They had done so much, and now this fucking lizard was going to burn them all alive because they had gotten to close to its home. She slammed the bolt home, cranked the drawstring back, and watched for the monster to come back.

“Captain! Get into the trees! Come on, we have to go!”

Alicia, knowing well the dragon was far beyond her range, fired anyway. She wasn’t leaving. Not until this thing was dead.

“Captain!”

Too many of her people were dead. She couldn’t leave. They were all dead. All of them. Everyone she had taken from Fort Dawnguard, from Riften, from Darkwater. She had promised to keep them safe and instead she had burned them all to death and fed them to a nightmare given form.

Talia was still out there, somewhere. She was probably lying in a crack in the rocks, her hair still burning from the fire that had killed her, the coat that was supposed to keep her safe from the cold no use against the heat of the flames.

“What are you doing? We have to go, now!”

The dragon vanished behind the mountain only to reappear moments later, banking so gracefully around the side, its wings unmoving as it coasted toward her people. It was almost beautiful. It was not even trying. This was nothing but crushing ants.

As it banked, Alicia aimed her crossbow right at its throat and squeezed. Again she started pulling another bolt from her belt, not even looking to see if her last had struck home, but stopped when she heard the dragon roar. It wasn’t the same, angry roar she had heard before. It was pained. It took her a moment to realize it but her shot had actually found its mark.

She looked up to find the monster just beginning to right itself, its flight disrupted and its wings in disarray. It flapped at the air in annoyance, coming to an abrupt halt and turning slowly to face the side of the basin where Alicia stood. It could see her clearly, she had no doubt of that. She had not even been trying to hide. Standing on top of the highest ridge she could find, her crossbow now shouldered for another shot, there was no way the beast could miss her.

Ricca was shouting something but it was drowned out by Alicia’s own words. “Come on then! Come and finish it!”

The dragon lumbered forward, each wingbeat as loud as a giant’s footsteps. It was terrifying. Alicia only realized she was afraid when she noticed her legs were shaking.

Her hands remained steady. This thing had killed her friends, burned them alive for doing nothing more than standing in the wrong place. She had lost so many friends, and she was so tired of worrying that she might lose more. She didn’t want to feel that again. Not anymore. She was either going to kill this thing, then every vampire in Skyrim, with her own two hands, or they were going to kill her. She didn’t want to feel it anymore. She just didn’t care.

Fire began to drip from the edges of its mouth as the dragon came closer. Alicia raised her crossbow for another shot, firing at the looming head just as it lurched forward and coughed. A massive fireball arced down toward the rocky ground, right toward Alicia’s head. She knew she should move but her legs refused to obey.

As the seething mass of orange flame fell toward her, she felt something else slam into her back. Ricca, blonde hair flying, tackled her hard enough to send them both over the side of the ridge, straight into the dragon’s path. Alicia heard the fire rush overhead and explode with a deafening boom against the ground behind them.

Rolling to her feet, Alicia found her crossbow and grabbed for another bolt. She shouted at Ricca, still on the ground but moving and swearing enough to be alive. “Get out of her, Ric!”

“Not without you!”

“I’m not leaving until this thing is dead!” Alicia raised her crossbow and fired again. This time the bolt caught the dragon in one of its armored joints, sending it listing to the side. “That’s right, you bastard! You like that? I’ve got plenty more where that came from!”

Ricca’s hands latched themselves to Alicia’s shoulders and started to tug. “I’m not letting you die here!”

Alicia struggled, fingers grasping for another bolt. “Leave me! That’s an order, dammit! I told you to -”

The sound of a thousand pounds of armored death slamming into the earth brought both of them around. Ricca tried to pull harder but Alicia twisted out of her grasp, loading another bolt. A cloud of dust was rising above the rocks just ahead of them, roiling with the distinct shapes of two black wings. Alicia aimed into the miasma and fired, hoping she hit something really painful.

“You can’t stay here! We still need you! Gods dammit, we need you!”

Alicia slapped another bolt against the string. She had always liked the way that felt. Very mechanical. “I’m not going.”

“Ali, please! I can’t lose you, too!”

The name struck her like an axe in her heart. She winced, fumbling with the bolt as the sound of claws scraping against stone came closer. “You already lost me. A thousand times, I’ve died and it’s only been two days. Just let it end here, Ric. I can’t do it anymore. I’ve tried and I can’t.”

“Yes you can! You have to! Just a little more, okay? Come with me. When it’s over, you’ll never have to go back. Just come with me!”

The earth shook as the dragon bellowed, its voice drawing both of them to the edge of the ridge. She could hear its footsteps now. It was crawling over ridge in front of them. In a moment, it would be there, looming over them, so close it could not miss them. The edge of the ridge was behind them. It wasn’t much cover, really, just a little bump in the rock, but it would be enough.

“I’m sorry.”

Alicia turned, grabbed Ricca by the collar, and shoved her over the edge. The woman’s eyes went wide and she tried to grab at Alicia’s arm, but she had always been the stronger one. Ricca went hurtling over the edge, sending her tumbling down the hill away from the dragon. It wasn’t much, but she hoped it would be enough.

The rock in front of her cracked, then collapsed as two immense claws tore their way through the solid rock. The wings came crashing down to either side as dust filled the air, spilling over Alicia’s form as she stood against the tide of broken stone. The great, maw pushed through the smoke, fire burning in its jaws as the head cleared the rising haze. Its eyes were massive, the size of her head at least. She could almost see herself in them. Its fangs looked as long as her body. They might have come up to her shoulder if she had set them on the ground beside her. The nostrils flared, billowing smoke around her in a foul haze of sulfur and cinders.

It looked right at her, eyes fixating on her, and roared.

Alicia screamed back at the top of her lungs. She raised her crossbow, aiming at its open mouth. She squeezed, the bolt snapping forward to stick firmly in the dragon’s skull. She heard the deep rumbling rising within its gullet. The flames began to grow brighter. Like a tide of molten metal, the fire rose in its throat, spilling between its teeth as it stared at her.

The fire burst forth.

Another voice, in a language she did not know, shattered the air around them. The words seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing around them, humming and vibrating in her chest until she felt as surely as though she had spoken them.

She did not understand the words, but that voice was one she would know anywhere. Behind her, standing on the ridge, unseen but there as surely as her shadow, was Talia.

A wave of freezing cold slammed into the dragon’s throat. Alicia watched, dumbfounded, as the dragon reared back in pain, the fire scorching the air above before cutting off in a guttering stream of smoke. Its eyes widened and the sound that wrenched free of its throat was one of pure and painful shock. She watched as ice formed against the monster’s hide, spreading around its scales in a tide of white and blue, like a pale hand grasping at its throat.

The frost crackled and fell away in chunks as the dragon reeled, its head lolling backward like it had been struck in the jaw. Alicia turned, then, and found Talia standing right there, looking as surprised as the dragon.

When the monster finally shook away enough of the ice to turn its head, it looked straight at Talia. Alicia was fumbling for another bolt when she practically dropped her crossbow. The dragon, instead of lunging at her, spoke. It sounded like what Talia had said, the words humming in her chest like the very sound of them was filled with power.

“Dovahkiin.”

Its eyes widened as Talia stepped forward, wings scrambling against the rock. Alicia panicked as she saw the ice begin to melt, fire once again flickering in the monster’s throat. “Talia!”

She grabbed at Talia, pulling her in close as she threw them both down the slope. Above the sound of scraping rock came that the heave and crash of the arcane, but it was not the dragon’s fire that filled the air. Lightning slammed into the creatures chest and more shouting came with it, this time in a very familiar language.

“What in the hell are you doing? Get out of the way! Get away from that thing, you idiots!”

Alicia was pulling Talia down the slope when she saw Illia, chest glowing a bright, sapphire blue, scrambling madly over the rocks, lightning arcing from her fingertips as she came. The sound of it snapping against the dragon’s hide and the smell of charred flesh filled the air. She heard the dragon roar, this time in a tone that sounded almost afraid, its wings scratching against the ground as it tried to find its footing. She heard the deep thrum of its wings return as Illia kept after it, the light around her growing brighter as she did.

“What - what happened? What did I do? Did I do that?”

They skidded to a halt near the bottom of the ravine, Ricca scrambling over the ground to meet them, tears staining her cheeks. Alicia looked back to see the dragon’s wings beating furiously against the air, bolts of lightning still chasing it as it ran. Alicia put her arm around Talia’s shoulders and, for the first time, looked down at the girl huddled beside her.

She was terrified. Her eyes were pure white, her face paler than moonlight. Alicia could not blame her. “Yeah. You did.”

“How? I just - the words, the voice, I just said the words and - and that.”

Alicia let Talia’s head fall onto her shoulder, her own head soon resting atop the girl’s. “It’s alright. You did good. You saved me. You saved all of us. Again!”

“I didn’t - I was so scared. I -”

“Shh. It’s alright. It’s alright.”

Ricca fell to the ground beside them, crossbow skittering against the stone. She looked finished. They all did. Illia was the only one still shouting, still fighting behind them.

As Talia collapsed into Alicia’s arms, she closed her eyes for the first time in what felt like years. She just wanted to sleep. She was so tired. She didn’t want to think about the war, the field, how many dead friends she would find among the wreckage. She didn’t want any of it. She wanted to start over. She wanted the farm back. She wanted her family back. This new one, this one that she had found on her adventure, was broken.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Alicia did not open her eye, barely managing to make a sound, her throat closing up with grief.

“Hey. Ali?”

Alicia felt her chest tighten. “Yeah?”

“Look at that. The sun’s coming out.”

 

Serana knelt over the body of her father, fingers still wrapped around the dagger he had given her. It felt like so long ago, yet only yesterday that she had first drawn it from its sheath. Now it was stained with his blood.

And she was not even sure she was sorry.

She let her fingers uncurl, pulling herself away from her father, his form slowly going from black to pale as his vampire form began to fade. Soon he would be just another mortal, dead on the field of a battle he alone had wanted.

“Eira,” she croaked, stumbling over the ground to where another mortal lay, this one scorched with lightning. A thin trail of smoke rose just above the unmoving body, and Serana felt the tears already running down her cheeks. “Eira!”

She practically fell on top of her, tripping over the broken stone and skidding down beside the woman. “You can’t be dead. Come on, Eira. You weren’t supposed to die. You hear me? You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Her hands already glowing, the last magic in her being pushed from her body, she grabbed Eira by the shoulder and rolled her over. Her arm felt wrong, like all the bones were gone. She swore, fingers resting on the skin as her body refused to move. It felt like there was nothing left but muscle. Blood still covered her arm and chest, the wounds still seeping red on to the stone below. Eira slowly rolled into her lap, Serana’s fall disturbing her rest, sending her limp form back into waiting and terrified arms.

Her eyes were open but unmoving, unseeing. Serana felt a choking sob wrack her body. “Not again. You don’t get to do this to me again.”

The light from her hands fell on Eira’s chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, it began to rise. Eira’s eyelids began to flutter, her eyes flicking slightly this way and that as she came back to the world.

“Hey. You found me.”

Serana collapsed on top of her. “You’re alive!”

Eira let out a pained, almost yelping cough. “Arm. Arm!”

“Sorry.” Serana forced herself to pull away, carefully setting the wound on the flattest ground she could find. “I’m sorry. I should have been here.”

“Yeah. Yeah you should have.” Eira was shaking her head and muttering under her breath, her words hidden by a fit of coughing. It took her a long moment to get out a single word. “Bow.”

“Who cares about the bow? You’re alive.”

She thought she saw Eira roll her eyes. Awake for less than a minute and she was already giving her attitude. “The bow? Lots of people. It’s dark. There’s a war. Isn’t there?”

Serana looked back to her father. She could see the gold of Auriel’s Bow peeking over one shoulder. It had survived all that fighting, done so much evil to the world, and now it was the only thing that could take it all back.

She smiled anyway. She even laughed. Eira was alive. “Yeah. There’s a war. It’s always something, isn’t it?”

“Never a dull moment.”

Eira grimaced as she tried to move and Serana quickly put her hands against her sides. She was trying to be gentle, at least. “Be still. You’ll only hurt yourself if you move.”

The pain etched on her face tugged at Serana’s heart but there was nothing she could do. She was so tired. A constant trickle of healing poured from her hands to Eira’s body just to make it a little easier on her but that was all she could manage. She was exhausted.

“The bow.” Eira nodded toward Harkon, her eyes turning pleading. “Please. I’ll be alright. Just finish it.”

Serana wanted to tell her the world could go to hell and that the only part of it she cared about needed her right now. She wanted to be selfish. She was far too good at being selfish.

“Alright. Just stay here, okay? I’ll come back. Don’t kill any vampire lords while I’m gone.”

Eira grunted. “Couldn’t if I tried. I throw like shit with my left.”

“You threw well enough a moment ago.”

“I was aiming for his throat.”

Eventually Serana did stand, reluctant to leave Eira’s side even for a moment. Just one short walk and it would be over.

The walk was not the hard part. Thankfully her father’s face had not returned to its human form. That made taking the bow from his corpse at least a little easier. She stared down at him while she worked, wondering if this was how it was supposed to feel. She didn’t feel much of anything, really. There were no tears on her cheeks. She felt certain they would come later, but for now, what remained of her heart lay with Eira on the broken stone bridge. This was not the time for words or regrets or small moments spared for a very long life.

Auriel’s Bow gleamed in the dark as Serana folded her fingers around the grip. She grasped one of the arrows slung across her back, drawing it forth and pointing it upward until it touched the sky.

It was time for all of this to end.


	53. In the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira and Serana retrieve Auriel's Bow and prepare to leave the city. Alicia recovers from her battle with the dragon and the realization that Talia is much more than she seemed.

Serana let the bow fall to her side and closed her eyes to the beaming midday sun. The sky shone a brilliant blue with only the faintest wisps of cloud in sight. It was all so beautiful, so crisp that, were it not for the towering columns of smoke, she could have believed that the darkness had never come at all. Still, from where Serana was standing, the sun was out and the sky was clear.

And by the gods did it burn.

The light pierced her like a thousand burning needles, eager to make good on all those hours she had walked painlessly beneath the sky. It should have been grateful. After all the trouble she had gone through to bring it back, it could have at least given her one day without burning her alive.

Auriel’s Bow hung in her grasp, gleaming in the light as Serana cracked her eyelids. She had the strongest urge to throw it in the ocean and let someone else sort out the mess. It had brought them nothing but suffering and keeping it around only tempted the fates to give rise to another endless night. Just because her father had failed did not mean that was the end. More would surely try. There was always someone else eager to climb over a pile of bodies for power.

She hefted it once, feeling the weight of it in her palm, before slinging it over her shoulder. They could figure it out later.

Eira was trying to sit up, weakly propping herself up on one elbow while her other arm dangled pitifully to the side. Serana hurried over, taking hold of her before she could do much. “Easy, easy. Let me help before you hurt yourself.”

The woman groaned and winced but was too weak to fight and allowed Serana to ease her off to the side of the road. A bit of broken stone served as a seat, propping Eira up enough that she wasn’t lying helplessly on the ground.

Eira let out a ragged breath as Serana at last set her down. “You’re a bit late for that.”

“What are you talking about?” Serana asked as she gingerly avoided Eira’s mutilated arm. Her whole shoulder looked like it had caved in, like half her body had been shattered. “This is just a scratch. It’s nothing.”

“I know. I -” Eira gasped as she tried to move and ended up freezing in place, her face contorted in agony.

Serana shushed her. “Just be still. Just rest. We’ll be gone soon.”

Leaning back against the rubble, Eira nodded, eyes closed from the pain. Serana tried to prop the hood of Eira’s cloak over her head but there was no point. The sun was right above them, beating mercilessly down on both of them as they lay in the middle of the road. They might as well have been in the middle of a frying pan, sizzling over a hot fire.

Smoke still obscured much of the sky to the north as Solitude continued to burn. An unhelpful breeze pushed it all to the east, over the bay and off toward the rest of Skyrim. It did little to obscure the sun. When she had arrived in the city to help Eira, she had paid little attention to what was happening around her except to swat away the occasional vampire. The battle near the center of the city, where the soldiers had huddled inside their walls, had been in full swing and had occupied most of the city. She had heard the explosions, seen the bursts of magical fire, but had not gone to investigate. Now she could see the scorched walls and shattered gates, as well as the bodies that littered the ground as common as paving stones. It was a horrible thing to see.

It made everything seem small. It seemed so long ago that Eira had first picked her up off the stone floor of Dimhollow Crypt and carried her to safety. When she had left home, the Elder Scroll on her back, the world had been a different place. The prophecy her father had been obsessed with was nothing more than a fever dream. He would never have her blood, let alone the knowledge of how to use it. The sun would never go out.

And then there was Eira. The mysterious traveller, the wanderer who had saved her life, the woman with the piercing eyes and quiet confidence. The foolish girl who had released a vampire from her tomb and the first thing she thought to do was keep her from scraping a knee.

“I’m sorry.”

Serana turned to see Eira, her eyes almost glassy, staring off toward the Blue Palace. “Why is that?”

Eira nodded toward one of the bodies, this one lying near the palace courtyard. It had at last turned back to its human form, and Serana could now clearly see the outline of her father lying dead on the stone.

There were supposed to be tears in her eyes. She had a feeling those would come later, after all of this was said and done, but for now, she could not conjure them. “So am I.”

“I didn’t mean for it to go like this.”

“I know.”

“I wanted it to be you. I wanted you to see him, maybe try to talk to him.” Eira grimaced, the pain creeping into her voice as she tried to move. “But then he came here. He started talking and - I got so angry.”

Serana felt her chest shudder with a laugh she barely heard. “Yeah. He was good at that.”

She turned to see Eira struggling with the mess of hair now falling over her face. Even pushing it aside so she could see left her clenching her jaw from the strain. What a mess they were. “It shouldn’t have ended this way. I’m… I’m just sorry.”

There was nothing she could do but be silent and nod her head. This was not how it was supposed to go. So she nodded, and said nothing until another bitter laugh shook her. “Well, I guess it’s alright. He did try to kill you.”

Eira was quiet for a moment, her eyes wandering back toward her father’s corpse. “I don’t know that he did. He could have killed me at the end, maybe even sooner if he’d wanted.”

“Then he tortured you to get to me.” Serana set her jaw, refusing to indulge even for a moment the thought that her father had still cared. “That was all that mattered. My blood. That he did so much to you is proof of that. It… it had to be this way. After all that happened, there was no other way this could have ended.”

“He offered me the world, Serana. Just the two of us, alone, free to go where we pleased.”

She flinched at that. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted you to know.”

Serana couldn’t decide if she was glad she knew about this or not. She stared at her the clouds of smoke, watching the shapes they made as the fire below consumed everything Solitude had been before. Countless lives had gone to waste here, and for what? “Why didn’t you take him up on it?”

Eira let out a soft chuckle. “I couldn’t really imagine breaking the news to you.”

“What, that you’d stolen the sun for me? That you’d remade the world for my convenience?”

“I didn’t imagine you taking it so well.”

She wouldn’t have. She gave Eira a light squeeze. “I’m glad you didn’t. If I had arrived to find you both shaking hands, you would look far worse than you do now.”

“I can only imagine. I should have kept him talking, though. It was stupid to try and fight him alone.”

Serana nodded sagely. “Yes, but stupid things are what you do best.”

“I could have taken him.”

At that, Serana felt a bit of real laughter bubbling to the surface. “Could you?”

“Yeah. Had him right where I wanted him.”

“Should I have stayed back? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no, I think you did fine. Not as fancy or as good-looking as what I would have done, but you did okay.”

Serana, a smile at last tugging at her lips, pulled Eira a little closer until her head was resting on her shoulder. It was short lived, the smile fading in the wake of her exhaustion a moment later, but she did love Eira for giving her that. Even if the moments were small, she would not trade them for the world.

“There’s plenty of time for you to show off,” she said quietly. “Once we’re far away from here.”

“And out of the sun, I hope?”

She rolled her eyes and found herself shaking with irritated mirth. “Yes, and out of the sun.”

“Oh, good. It’s not great for your skin, you know.”

“Tell me, are all world-saving heroes this needy, or is it just you?”

Eira nudged her head against Serana’s shoulder. It was probably the only movement that she could manage without hurting herself. “You’ll have to find one and ask. The only one I’ve ever met is this crotchety old woman.”

“Oh? How old, exactly?”

“Really old. Ancient. Bag of bones, really.”

Serana shook her head. “Feels like that today.”

Another nudge. “Well, I think you look great for your age.”

She had to laugh. She wanted to sit there, moping, angry at the world and wanting it all to go away, but Eira made it impossible not to laugh. If it wouldn’t have killed her outright, she would have picked the horrible woman up and either shaken her like a rag doll or kissed her on the mouth. She wasn’t sure which it would be first, but right now she felt like doing both.

As her laughter faded, she saw Eira’s own smile begin to fade with it. She wished she had her sense of humor. She wanted that smile to stay. Of all people, Eira had earned the right to have a little joy in her life right now.

“What happens now?”

Serana looked back toward the burning palace then down toward the rest of Solitude. “We can’t stay here long. They’ll be looking for us.”

Eira made an unhappy noise. “I think they already found us.”

Serana had seen it, too. The moment she had said the words, a woman in absurdly fine, but badly smoke-stained nightclothes came hurrying up the road. She looked unarmed except for a scroll in one hand, but it did not take a master sorceress to recognize what it was.

As gently as she could, Serana pushed Eira back against the rubble and got to her feet. She didn’t care anymore. If this one wanted to die, so be it. It was just one more on the pile at her feet.

Seeing Serana stand, the woman instantly stopped, putting her hands out before her. “Wait. Please.”

Eira made another noise, this one more surprised than unhappy. “She’s alright. That’s the Jarl. Elisif.”

The woman spoke just as Eira finished. “Your friend saved my life from that creature. Is she alright?”

Serana did not move, nor did she release the lightning still crackling between her fingers. “She will be. Once we’re gone. And I warn you, that bit of parchment will not save you if you try to stop us. I’ve already lost most of my family today. I will not lose what remains.”

Her words got the finely-dressed woman to stop and, as she hesitated, Serana could easily picture her on Solitude’s throne, albeit in somewhat cleaner clothing. The Jarl did her best to put the scroll somewhere non-threatening, a spectacle Serana enjoyed when Elisif realized her current outfit did not have pockets. She ended up looking pleadingly at Serana and just holding the scroll limply at her side.

“I’d ask you not to torture the royalty,” Eira said as she tried to sit up a bit straighter. “But she did blow me up an hour ago.”

Elisif had the decency to turn red as Serana raised an eyebrow. “It - the door was trapped! That monster tried to get through and set off the wards! I had no idea they would react so violently.”

“Be thankful they did.” Serana nodded over her shoulder at Harkon’s body. “There are few things in the world that would give… that monster... pause.”

As Eira tried to stand, Serana hurried over and lent her shoulder to the poor woman. Elisif followed, keeping a good distance but plainly worried for Eira’s wellbeing. “I am fortunate your friend was there. Your name. It was Eira, wasn’t it? That was what it called you. It knew you from before.”

Eira groaned. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“And one you will not be telling until you’re well again.” Serana gave Eira a gentle squeeze about the ribs. It was enough to make her gasp and the look she gave Serana was not entirely appreciative.

The Jarl took a few quick steps forward. “A moment, please. You’ve done so much for us. I can find you a healer, a place to stay, anything you need.”

“We need,” Serana growled. “To be left alone.”

Eira was kinder. “Thank you, but we’ll be alright. The people here need more help than we do. We can take care of ourselves.”

“You can’t just disappear! After all you’ve done, everyone you’ve saved -”

“It’s for the best.” Serana cut her off, hoisting Eira further onto her shoulder.

“Where are you going to go?”

“It doesn't matter. Away from here.”

“If you won’t stay, then let me do this for you. It’s far less than you deserve, but please, take it as the smallest gesture of my thanks.” Elisif looked from Serana to Eira with such desperation that Serana at last let her finish. “There is a house, my personal home, on the waters just to the east of here. It sits on the edge of the bay, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills and the shores of the sea. I am certain that it still stands. It is far away from everything. No one will think to look for you there and I promise the wards in place there are more than sufficient to keep you safe.”

Serana wanted to snap at her and turn her down out of hand. She didn’t need any charity. She could take care of Eira well enough on her own. But where would she go? She had no desire to return to Volkihar, as safe as it surely was. There was nothing for her there and the memories of her childhood could only do so much to brighten those halls. That was to say nothing of what surely lurked in the castle’s forgotten passages.

No, she would not have Eira spend one night within those walls. She looked to Eira, hoping to hear one of her harebrained schemes that would get them out of this. Instead, she got a look of misery and quiet acceptance. They had nowhere to go. Charity would at least give them a roof over their head.

“Alright.”

Serana had never been very good at accepting gifts but the Jarl looked more relieved about this than about her city being free of vampires. “Then by my right as Jarl, I grant you this small piece of land as your own. Consider this thanks, the smallest expression of thanks I can muster, for saving my city and quite possibly the world. I swear that no one will disturb you during your stay and ask only that you return when you are able. I wish to reward you properly.”

“That won’t be necessary. This is more than enough.” Eira managed to sound almost noble even through gritted teeth. Serana felt another smile creeping over her face but resisted the urge to poke fun at her just yet. They had both been through a lot.

“You won’t be safe leaving through the city. Not alone, at least. I will guide you out. I can show you the ways my people, and the vampires, will have missed. There will be supplies there, too, hopefully enough to ease the pain a bit.”

Eira let out another grunt of pain. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Come, then, and quickly. The Legion will be looking for me and I doubt your battle here has gone unnoticed.” As Elisif began to lead them away, she turned back to the pair of ragged vampires. “Before you leave, if nothing else, I must have your names. I have yours, Eira, but beyond that I do not know you. Who do I thank for delivering us from this nightmare?”

Serana sighed. This was the last thing she wanted. She looked to Eira, her face still contorted with pain, hoping to find a better answer than what she wanted to give.

“My name doesn’t matter.” Serana looked one last time toward the palace and the figure lying still before it. “My father caused all this. It was my fault as much as anyone’s. I don’t want to be remembered for this.”

She turned back toward Elisif, nodding toward Eira as she did. “You should remember her. She’s the one who saved you. Eira. Eira the Dragonslayer.”

 

It took only a moment for the world to change completely. The sky had darkened as quickly as the dousing of a candle, and just as quickly had it returned. It was like nothing had ever happened. The world was normal again, and everything before was just a bad dream.

Alicia’s eyes remained closed. She wished she could wake up from all this. This nightmare had been exhausting. Even those trapped inside it were worn beyond their years. When the dawn had come, there had been no sound as there had the night before, no deep boom of thunder to darken the sky. The clouds simply vanished, receding behind the horizon without explanation. There had been no sound, but the feeling of relief was beyond description, like finally being able to breathe again after being trapped beneath the waves until her lungs began to burn.

She felt the weight of Talia’s head on her arm, unmoving now that she had caught her breath. There had been a long time where Talia had clutched on to her, sobbing out of exhaustion or fear or both. The poor thing had been through so much and it had only been a day. She had come to Alicia with nothing only to have what little remained stolen away. Even when something was gifted to her, it certainly felt like a curse from where Alicia stood.

Alicia rubbed idly at Talia’s shoulder in a pitiful gesture of comfort. There was so much more ahead for her. As provincial as she was, even Alicia knew the stories of the Dragonborn. Talia would never again be the little thief girl from Riften. She had greater things awaiting her, and all of them had sharp teeth and armored hides.

As Alicia’s mind continued to wander, she the weight leave her arm. The sound of pebbles skittering down the slope came quietly to her ear as Talia sat up. Alicia kept her eyes shut. If the girl was going to bolt, she would not stop her. She’d just as soon go with her.

The sound came again from her right, louder this time. She heard Ricca shifting against the stone, her movements too slow to be much more than Talia’s.

She let her eyes flutter open, the new world mocking them with the gleaming light of a perfect day. Lying on the rocks, looking up at the sky, it would have been so easy to think that none of it had really happened. The sky was all but cloudless, the only shadows cast by birds fluttering off to the west.

What her eyes wanted to see, her ears slowly stole away. The sounds of fire crackling in the distance, the distant calls of men and women still clinging to life in some forgotten crevice. Even the birds, placid as they were, became sinister as they began to circle, cawing loudly at one another as they did. Alicia wanted to reach for her crossbow and start shooting. Just a few moments. That was all she asked.

Talia stood, staring off to the north where the dragon had fled, but said nothing. Ricca stayed seated, eyes red and hands shaking. She was muttering something to herself too faintly for Alicia to make out.

Soon Illia had found her way back to them, picking her way down the rock to stand quietly apart from them all. Her chest still glowed a faint sapphire and only now could Alicia make out the pendant that was the source of the light. Her cloak had fared poorly in the battle, its shining blue now blackened and torn. Alicia wondered how many times the woman had gone up against that dragon before Talia had stopped its rampage.

Aela padded over the rock in front of them, longbow held easily to one side, stopping at the top of the ridge when she saw them. She almost smiled, seeing all of them standing around in silence, before moving to join them, silent as a wolf on the prowl. Her hulking friend was nowhere to be seen. She hoped he had gotten out alright.

A few more trickled in. Dawnguard survivors began collapsing on the ridge behind her, their armor clanking as they did. Thorvald, his clothing badly singed, wandered in a daze along the side of the rock until he nearly tripped over Ricca. The two of them stared at one another wordlessly before settling down to wait, Ricca’s muttering abruptly silenced. Vahar limped into view a moment later, a nasty gash opened in the side of his head. He gave Alicia a brief nod before easing himself to the ground beside Aela.

Alicia stood at last, taking in the ragged bunch around her. The Dawnguard had always been a bunch of misfits looking for their place in the world, a jumble of sad stories all put together to make a braver ending. She did not know how many were left, but however many there were, they had been nothing if not brave. Foolish, but brave.

Of Isran there was no sign, and Alicia did not care to look. His Dawnguard had never been the one she fallen in love with.

“What do we do now?”

The voice was Ricca’s, but she knew the question spoke for all of them. Alicia looked down to find the woman’s eyes red but dry, her hands far from her discarded weapons but no longer shaking in the air. She turned to find every set of eyes on her, every expression quiet but ready. Ready for whatever came next.

She met Talia’s gaze, and was not at all surprised when she did not recognized the girl from the Ratway. This was someone else, someone taller and, impossibly, braver.

“We go home.”

Aela’s smile widened as she murmured. “Aye. We could all use a good drink.”

“Fort Dawnguard’s a wreck, ma’am,” Vahar said from his place on the slope. “It’ll take a lot to fix that place up again.”

“I wasn’t talking about the fort.” Alicia turned to see Thorvald looking silently up at her. For once, he actually looked like he was listening. “The Dawnguard have played their part. Whatever this was, it is over. The people of Riften need us now, not as vampire hunters but as strong hands and able minds. They will need food and water, shields and shelter in the coming days. Their crops will need tending as surely as their wounded. Hunger and harsh winds will come to finish what the war began.”

Illia came down the slope to stand beside Talia and Alicia caught a look of awe pass over the woman’s face. She had seen what had happened, and from that look, she knew what was coming next. “Riften always smelled off to me. Fish when it was warm, salt and stone when it rained. I doubt the fire helped anything.”

Talia looked over her shoulder and Alicia watched as the sorceress actually cracked a genuine, comforting smile. What was that supposed to mean?

Illia shrugged. “They’ll just need someone to help rebuild. That’s all.”

“They’ll need food, too.” Aela twirled her bow in one hand and looked off toward the trees. “Been a while since I’ve been off on a good hunt. It’ll be a challenge, feeding a whole city. I’ll bet you I can do it. Sound good? You lot buy the drinks, I’ll put food on the table.”

“Not quite the grand battles the Companions are known for.”

Aela turned her gaze on Illia as she spoke. “And you, sorceress? How will you rebuild with fire and lightning?”

“I have my ways.” Illia winked and swaggered but remained by Talia’s side. “And, should there be need of my other talents while we wait, I gave my word to provide them. Riften is not yet saved. I have not yet kept my word.”

Alicia never had asked about that. Of all the people who could bend someone like Illia to their will, she could only think of a few. If she ever saw either of them again, she wasn’t sure if she would kiss them or run for her life.

“There will be plenty of work for us, too.” Ricca nudged the still-dazed Thorvald. He blinked a few times but otherwise retained his helpless look. “Right? Well, he’ll be alright. He’ll remember how to use his hands. It’s been a while but I think I still remember how to hold a hammer.”

From the back of the group, Vahar grunted. “And if you remember wrong, I’ll be there to whip some sense into you. Anyone can use a hammer. It’s something else to hammer together something that won’t fall down at the first gust of wind.”

“Lucky thing we’ve got the Jarl in our pocket. Isn’t that right, Lady Talia?”

Illia gave her a teasing nudge and Talia smiled but otherwise said nothing. She turned back to Alicia in silence, met her eyes, and waited. Alicia stared back, gathering her strength for what would come. This was not the end. There were graves to dig, final words to be spoken, wounds to mend in both the flesh and the mind.

Alicia’s eyes found the distant column of smoke that rose over Riften. It had turned nearly white in the sunlight, the fires having burned down now that the battle was over. She took a deep breath, set her boots firmly against the rock, steadied herself, and took the first step on the path.

It was time to go home.


	54. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia struggles with her role as Dragonborn now that the battle is over. Alicia recovers from her time in the Dawnguard.

Riften was rebuilding. The sounds of hammers hammering, saws sawing, and men shouting marked the ongoing effort to put roofs over everyone’s heads before the next snow. Fishermen were out on the lake from dawn to dusk, hunters prowled the woods for whatever game remained, and Aela shamed them all every night with an impossible haul of fresh meat and greenery by the armful.

Talia stood in the shade of the trees and breathed in the fresh air of the palace gardens. She had made herself Quiet again, not to sneak inside the walls as she had last time, but because she didn’t want to disturb the only other soul in sight. The lone woman stood silently, as she did every morning, staring into one of the small pools. Talia hadn’t meant to spy on her. She just wanted to check in and make sure she was okay.

Alicia looked different now. She wore a simple white shirt with tan trousers, her old boots replaced with lighter, more comfortable ones. Nothing she wore was made for battle. Her sword and crossbow were gone, and not even a knife hung from the belt around her waist. She stood, hands folded behind her back, and waited quietly near the edge of the water.

It was strange, seeing her like this. Talia liked that she was out of her armor. That was a good sign, right? She could imagine her settling down like this, not fighting vampires any longer but maybe building things. She had seen her down near the waterfront, helping to rebuild the homes that had burned down. The rest of her days could be spent working with nails instead of crossbow bolts.

Her hands still trembled faintly. It was almost too small to see, but when the sound of soldiers sparring grew too loud or the sound of a broken building being knocked down carried over the walls, she could see them begin to shake. That hadn’t started until later. She had taken so much on herself even after it was over. Once the battle with the dragon was over, Alicia had stayed behind while so many others walked away, and she did not leave until every body on that field was buried. Now the hills and clearings outside Riften were covered in markers, and almost every single one had been placed by Alicia’s hands. It had all but killed her to do it, but she had never stopped.

Talia kept herself Quiet, just as she had the day before, and tried to convince herself to just walk away. Alicia didn’t need to be bothered by her. She needed peace. She needed to be left alone. Whatever was about to happen, Talia could spend at least a few days making sure she was alright.

It was too beautiful a lie to be believed. Talia let the Quiet fade and took one last look at Alicia from the shade of the trees before stepping forward softly. The rustle of grass and fallen leaves filled the air, accompanied by the soft clearing of her throat.

Alicia spun, plainly startled by the sudden interruption. Talia put her hands up and tried to smile disarmingly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Another lie but this one wasn’t very big. When Alicia saw who had so rudely invaded her peace, her eyes softened and she actually let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s you. Forgive me, you just took me by surprise.”

“Am I intruding? I can come back, if you’d like.”

“No, please.” Alicia put out her hand and stepped toward her. “You don’t have to apologize and you certainly don’t have to leave. What are you doing out here?”

“The Jarl was looking for you.” As she said that, Alicia’s expression fell and Talia hurriedly put her hands out. “Don’t worry. It seems I haven’t been able to find you today.”

Alicia chuckled at that. “Thank you. I didn’t realize she had put you to work already.”

“She didn’t ask me, really, just some people that were near me.” She pointed off toward the sound of clashing steel and the hollow sound of wooden practice swords being smashed together. “She thought they’d find you near the garrison, or off patrolling the walls. I don’t think she knows you very well.”

The once-captain gave her a very appreciative look. “I am grateful that you do. And I am glad you’re here. I haven’t been very good at checking in like I should and… well, I think I could use the company. Too much time alone and all that.”

“Is everything alright?”

Alicia’s face darkened for a moment, the way it had when she had buried her friends outside the walls. It had gotten better in the weeks afterward, but Talia had never been able to clear all the clouds away. She was not even sure if she was the right person to be trying. So many of her friends had died and this urchin had survived; not only survived, but had been elevated to nobility. She lived in comfort, now, or what comfort was available in a city that had been all but wrecked by fire and looting. Alicia had every right to resent her for that, even to blame her for the deaths of her friends, and the thought of that scared Talia to death.

“I just keep going back, you know?” Alicia’s voice turned quiet as she answered. “I’ve been sleeping better, I guess, but I still have nightmares. Sometimes I still hear them talking to me. Other times I’ll see them in the market. There are days that I think about it too much. I think it’s my fault. I wonder why I’m here and they’re out there.”

Talia did not need to look to know she was looking at the cemetery beyond the walls. She had tried so hard to save her from these thoughts but she had never been very good with words. All she could do was be there, useless as a cart without its wheels.

She took Alicia’s hands in hers, feeling them shake as the memories returned. “I’m sorry.”

Alicia gave Talia’s hands a squeeze. “It’s alright. I’m managing. I have to, don’t I? Anyway, I don’t think you came out here hoping I’d ruin your mood. It’s not like I’m trying to drive you off or anything. I am glad to see you.”

Talia smiled and watched as Alicia’s eyes began to focus on her. It was only a matter of time before she noticed. She tried not to puff out her chest in pride.

“That is a fine cloak,” Alicia said at last.

Talia beamed. “Isn’t it? You should feel it. It’s a bit heavier than the one I had, but it’s so much warmer. And there’s pockets.”

Alicia chuckled, running her hand along the edge. “It’s so soft. What is it?”

“I’ve no idea. I wasn’t sure if it’d be rude to ask, so I just took it and ran.”

She watched as Alicia rolled her eyes happily. “Stick with what works, that’s what I always say. The Jarl gave this to you?”

Talia nodded. “Illia helped. She said it’s enchanted.”

“Enchanted? That sounds expensive. What can it do?”

“She said it would keep me safe from magic, that’d I’d be warm in the deepest blizzard and cool even in a burning building.” Talia paused, giving Alicia a look. “I don’t know why she thought I’d be going anywhere like that, but I wasn’t about to complain. She also said it can carry a great weight and I would feel only a small part of it.”

Alicia was shaking her head. “The things they do with magic. That’s amazing. You deserve it, of course, after all you’ve done for them.”

With so many people in Riften now begging for food, forming lines outside the keep for bread every morning, Talia wondered why she had taken the time to make something like this at all. The Jarl had insisted on keeping her word and had started pestering Talia to dress up on formal occasions, but she could at least sort of understand why she did that. It felt almost like an apology, like the fine clothes against her skin would take away the years and years of hunger, fear, and freezing cold. It was almost childish, but Talia could appreciate the gesture.

She wouldn’t stop stealing the Jarl’s food, though. Old habits were hard to break. “What about you? I heard the Jarl is trying to make you a Thane, too.”

Alicia glared at her. “And I suppose you had nothing to do with that?”

“They give you a house, you know.” With very few houses in Riften still standing, Alicia gave her the look she deserved. Talia just shrugged it off. “It wasn’t my idea. Everyone is grateful to the Dawnguard and especially to you. They all know what you went through. They’re just trying to pay you back for it.”

As honest as she was being, she could see Alicia was not biting. “Is that why she’s looking for me?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. You should talk to her. Remember what you told me? She won’t ask you to defend the city from Stormcloaks or anything. It’s just a title.”

“It’d be the Empire, not the Stormcloaks, way down here,” Alicia muttered. “And what else am I supposed to do if not protect the city? They don’t have thanes that make chairs or blow glass and I’d even have a hard time with those. If they asked me to pick up a sword, I’d… well, look!”

She held up her hand for Talia to see. The trembling had turned to a violent shaking that traveled up her arm almost to her elbow. It broke her heart to see it, even more so when Alicia grimaced and tried to force it to stop with her other hand.

“It’s alright,” Talia said, bending her head a bit to catch Alicia’s downcast eyes. “You’ve done enough for them. How many people can say they saved an entire city from vampires and an eternity of darkness? What would they have you do next, save it from werewolves? Dragons? Giant rats?”

Alicia laughed at that. The sound was strained as she continued fighting with her shaking hands, but it was there and that was enough for her. “Always hated rats. Maybe I’ll let the guards handle that one. I don’t want it to look like I’m showing off.”

“You need to be a pretty big hero to take on giant rats, I think. Trust me, I’ve lived with them. That’s why all my clothes had holes, you know. They’ll chew right through your leg if they think there’s food in your pocket.”

“I’m not surprised.” Alicia gave her a long look. “I think you could handle just about anything, couldn’t you?”

Talia, seeing a dozen looks cross Alicia’s face at once, tried to lighten her mood. “I learned from the best. I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

She sniffed. “Sure you could. You’re going to do great things, Talia. I know it. We all know it.”

That was something she had a hard time imagining. She would believe it when it happened. “Ali-”

“It’s alright,” Alicia cut her off, holding up one still-trembling hand and smiling. “You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t mean for this to be a goodbye, after all. It just seems that whenever I see you, you’re dressed for the road. Even now I can see it. I worry that one day I’ll turn around and you’ll be gone, off on whatever adventure the gods have in store for you.”

Talia gave her a very hurt look. “I couldn’t just leave, you know that. I know you’d never forgive me, and then when I got back, who would lend me a place under their roof?”

“Someone with a roof to lend, I should think.” Alicia shook her head, annoyed. “You could sleep in the palace any time you’d like. Why would you want to spend the night in whatever ramshackle hut they find for an old soldier?”

“I’ve seen you down by the docks, you know, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you helping put homes together in the mornings.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than follow me around all day?” Alicia snapped, failing to hide a bewildered smile.

Talia shrugged, trying not to look too embarrassed. “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

“Not when you’ve got so much to be worried already. I’m fine, Talia. I promise.”

The lie was more for her own benefit than Talia’s. The haunted look in her eyes never faded. Talia wished she could take that away. She should have helped her dig. Watching her come back from the graves, hands covered in blisters, was like watching a dead woman shamble back to her own hole in the earth.

Alicia had only recently moved into the palace with Talia, the Jarl granting her a private room near the gardens. Talia had practically dragged her out of the old burned-down bunkhouse. She hadn’t understood why the woman was so attached to her old room there, but knowing Alicia, it wasn’t that hard to guess. The poor woman always was too hard on herself.

“Have you told anyone?”

Talia shook her head. When she noticed the look Alicia was giving her, she added a bout of helpless laughter just to make her point. “What am I supposed to say? That a dragon called me a name after I somehow shot ice out of my mouth?”

“It’s a good start, but I’d add that the dragon also took one look at you and ran for the hills. That’s the part I like, anyway.”

The comment made her smile but Talia preferred to glare. This was supposed to be serious. “You’re not very helpful. But I think Illia knows.”

Alicia nodded as they both glanced at the cloak now draping Talia’s shoulders. “Do you think that’s why she’s sticking around?”

“She keeps talking about leaving and going back to her tower but she hasn’t done it yet. The city is back on its feet. She could leave. I think the Jarl wants her gone, too.”

“Oh?”

“Not like that. I just think she’s uncomfortable having someone like her so close to the throne. From what I heard, there’s a tower in the mountains not far from here full of very powerful mages. The ones who know about it say its a place of necromancy, and that those who go looking to learn more don’t come back.”

There were worse rumors than that floating around the quieter parts of the palace but even Talia had enough sense to ignore those. What she told Alicia she heard from those closest to the Jarl. Alicia just sighed. “Of course she did.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, but after all she’s done for us, I’m not sure I care.” The brusque dismissal caught Talia off guard but Alicia only shrugged. “What? She saved my life and yours. She can raise whatever corpses she likes, so long as she doesn’t try adding you to her collection.”

The cloak suddenly felt unnaturally heavy as Talia eyed it. “Well, if I come back as a pile of bones, I’ll be sure to stop by and visit.”

Alicia snorted. “That’s all I need. An undead Dragonborn following me around the palace.”

“I won’t cause too much trouble. No more than usual.” Talia smiled cheerfully as Alicia rubbed at her temples. Her smile widened as she noticed her hands were no longer shaking. At least she was good for something.

“Well, when you do finally leave, if she wants to tag along, make sure you don’t let her put you on any altars. And watch out for graveyards, tall towers, and black robes. I’m pretty sure that’s how all that necromancy stuff works. That’s how it is in the stories, anyway.”

“I’ll be careful,” Talia said, waving away the concern. “See, my cloak isn’t black and neither is hers. We’ll be fine.”

Alicia shook her head, giving the ground a disapproving look that was probably meant for Talia. She was quiet for a moment but Talia was prepared for what she was going to say. They had been over it time and again and no matter how many times they danced around it, the stubborn woman could not see herself as anything but the Captain. Talia wanted to pick her up and shake her. Other people could handle themselves. Other people could save themselves. She didn’t have to be there for everyone all the time.

“I’ll be here when you come back.”

Talia had already opened her mouth to argue but stopped dead at the words. “What?”

The old soldier gave her a defeated smile. “I know you have to leave. And I know I can’t go with you. So I’ll be here. Once you come back, we’ll have Riften squared away and you’ll have a hot meal waiting for you.”

Dumbfounded, Talia could do little more than gawk at Alicia’s sudden change of heart. “I… you’re not going to fight about it?”

“No. I know when I’m wrong, Talia.” Her eyes turned from defeated to accepting with more than a little heartbreak at their edges. “I still wish I could go with you and I’ll spend every waking moment worried sick over you but this is how it has to be. I can’t help you out there, no matter how much I want to.”

“You don’t have to fight dragons to be a hero, you know.”

“Just because you are the hero doesn’t mean you have to fight them alone,” she said easily.

Talia felt a tremor in her gut. “Well that’s good, then, because I don’t know how much dragon fighting I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve been looking around but no one seems to talk about it much. Maybe Illia knows. But I’m not going to be fighting them on a schedule or anything, right?”

Alicia laughed, beaming down at Talia and putting one hand to her lips. She looked embarrassed. What? What had she said?

As Alicia opened her mouth to answer, the sky ripped open in a peal of deafening thunder. The sound was practically enough to deafen them. The trees shook around them as every bird in every tree took to the sky as one, wings flapping in blind panic. Alicia cringed, dropping to a crouch as the world shook, the surface of the pond now rippling anxiously behind her. Strangely, Talia almost felt like she had been expecting this, like it was completely normal. She found herself standing tall, her only thoughts those of regret that her quiet days had come to an end.

She heard the voices ring out as one, shattering the clear blue of the sky.

_DOVAHKIIN!_

It was what Talia had been waiting for. Well, not quite something this grand and terrifying, but she had been expecting something, some sign from above that the world had noticed her. The first nights after it had happened, she had nearly left her room to go find Alicia and the rest of the Dawnguard rather than spend the night alone. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen and, after all they had been through, the Dawnguard felt almost like family. If she was going to face this thing, she would do it with the people she had already walked with her through Oblivion.

Now, with the sound of thunder still rumbling all around them, Talia found herself wanting it all over again. She wanted Alicia with her for this. She always knew what to do. She would be able to handle what Talia could not.

Alicia straightened as the echoes began to fade. The rest of the city had gone silent. Talia would probably have done the same, staring in fear at the sky above and waiting for darkness to swallow it again. She brushed a strand of red hair from her eyes, her fingers shivering as she did, and eyed Talia up and down. She didn’t look afraid, but then again, Talia would not have expected anything less from her.

She was going to miss that about her. She was going to miss an awful lot about her.

“Alright.” Alicia tucked the strand behind her ear and gave Talia a look she had not seen in a long time.

Talia felt her spine growing a bit straighter, her heart beating faster as she remembered where she had seen the look. There was a bit of the Captain left in her, and now she was seeing it again. She stood at attention like one of her Dawnguard and waited for her Captain’s word.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing this right. You’re coming with me. We’re going to talk to the Jarl, see what she knows, and if she doesn’t know anything, we’ll find someone who does. We’ll need books, paintings, anything that can tell us a story of what you’ll be seeing once you leave. We’ll need provisions, a map, money, as well as weapons and someone to train you. You’ll need to know how to take care of yourself, so we need the best. We need someone who can help you. Someone who knows what they’re doing.”

She took a step toward Talia, eyes hard and her voice commanding as she took her by the shoulder. Talia could only smile. She was really, really going to miss her.

“We need a dragon slayer.”


	55. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira recovers from her wounds at the Jarl's estate, waiting for Serana to return from Castle Volkihar. Things have finally settled down, but they may not stay quiet for long.

Eira watched the sun rise over the mountains, its light dancing on the waves of the northern sea as it cleared the distant peaks. She knew she should be inside, carving out a nice sleeping coffin now that she was a proper vampire, but she had already been sleeping too much lately. There was a lot to do, a lot more to think about, and she could no longer hide behind her injury as an excuse to avoid it.

Things had been quiet since they had arrived at the Jarl’s estate. Just as she had promised, the sprawling villa had been completely ignored by the fighting, and just stepping onto the untouched grounds felt like moving from one plane of existence to another. Only the smoke rising over Solitude reminded them that the world still marched on without them. Eira was grateful that she had spent so many of those early days asleep. It meant she did not have to look at the burning city and remember how all of it was her fault.

She closed her eyes, feeling the light of the sun begin to stab like burning needles into her skin. Serana was right; she was spending too much time alone.

Of course, Serana was not here to do anything about that. She had left for Castle Volkihar two days before, having delayed as long as possible before going back to visit her mother. She was supposed to be coming back soon. Caring for Eira and mending her own burns and bruises had been a convenient excuse but family could not be ignored forever. After all Serana had done to get back to her family, after what might have been millenia trapped in her own tomb, she now wanted nothing more than a little peace and quiet. The gods really did have a terrible sense of humor.

At least Elisif had returned her father’s ashes. Some poor soldier had delivered them to Serana while Eira had asleep. Apparently, he hadn’t batted an eye when a vampire answered the door, something that both vexed and worried her. She had hoped Elisif would just sweep all this under the rug and the two of them could go about their business as they always had. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of having a reputation. Only a few people knew about it now but stories had a way of getting around, and even if it had been hard at times, she had enjoyed knowing that she could throw up her hood and vanish whenever she pleased.

She wondered what Serana would think. Regardless of what she had told Elisif, she deserved more of this fame than Eira did.

Whatever the reason, Serana had been able to bury her father, and Eira was thankful for that. She had taken the ashes to Volkihar with her, intending to bury them somewhere quiet. She thought the garden would infuriate him the most. It was also where she wished he had spent more time, so that maybe he would have recognized the beauty of the world as it was. Maybe then he would not have fought so hard to destroy it. Eira wished she could have gone with her, but then again, she was not sure she wanted to be there. The thought of what Serana had been through, knowing that her own father had put her through all of it, still made her blood boil. No, better that she stayed here and let Serana remember a man Eira could scarcely believe existed.

When the sun grew unbearable, Eira made her way to the western side of the villa, hiding in the shadows while her eyes did their best to adjust in the daylight. She was getting better at that. What little healing magic she knew she used on her eyes, a steady stream of mana keeping the worst of the light at bay. It wasn’t perfect, and she couldn’t do it for long just yet, but she was getting there. It let her move around almost as she had before being turned. If she could just do something about her pale skin and the campfire glow that shot from her eyes, no one would know she was an undead horror.

Soon, the pain in her eyes was the least of her problems. Just as she did every day, she took a deep breath, set her feet in a fighting stance, and brought her hands in close to her chest. The form was something she had learned from the Brotherhood, meant to deflect blows and facilitate easy, rapid strikes with a small blade, but she had made some adjustments over the years. Brawling with the Companions had taught her the difference between killing one man and fighting against a dozen.

For the next several hours, time that was broken by long bouts of leaning against the wall in pain and frustration, Eira went through the motions. It was usually more meditative than combative, but that had been before her injury. With pain flaring up every time she shifted her weight, it wasn’t long before she was gritting her teeth. The frustration of it all was far worse. She felt herself fumbling with even the most basic stances, her arm never quite moving exactly how she wanted. It was always just a bit off, like someone else was driving her arm and all she could do was give them directions. It shouldn’t have bothered her so much. The thought of never fighting again was one she cherished more than anything, but never being able to draw a bow or lift a blade even if she wanted to? That thought infuriated her.

Still, she kept on until the blinding light of day left her nowhere to hide. Retreating inside spared her the pain of the sun but did nothing to take her mind off her arm. She stalked the halls alone, wandering from room to room and taking in what was surely the most lavish place she had ever called a home. It wasn’t even their home. A part of her wondered when the Jarl would return and politely ask them to hit the road, but it was not exactly high on her list of worries. Other thoughts soon drew her away, carrying the rest of the day with them.

Serana returned later that night, surprising Eira as she lounged in the main hall beside the enormous hearth. She didn’t say much and Eira was well-versed enough to give her the space she needed, even if she really could have used the company. It was enough to know she was back, safe and sound and violently ripping through the Jarl’s expansive library.

And it was expansive. Shelves twice as tall as Eira lined the walls of a room that could have comfortably sat a dozen guests, some in comfortable nooks furnished with cushions and small lanterns. She looked in on her a few hours before dawn. Serana had always said she was a voracious reader and now she proved it. Already a small pile of books surrounded her on the floor, tomes large enough that Eira was convinced could not be read in days, let alone hours. She walked on, returning to her favorite balcony seat for another night of watching the stars.

It went on like that for a long time. Eira fell into her own routine, Serana into hers, with only the barest conversation joining them. Serana would ask after her arm, offer to spend her time healing it, then find her way back to the library once it was over. It wasn’t her fault. Eira wasn’t much for conversation right now either and every time she tried to strike one up, it felt forced and hollow. So the books piled higher, Eira’s arm continued to pain her, and the world went on without them.

Until Serana found her by the fire.

She heard her coming down the stairs, shuffling as she always did for a long moment near the door. Eira always wondered if she should call out to her when she did that. It wasn’t as though this was her fault, though she always found a way to blame herself when Eira’s arm did not heal fast enough.

It started the same way it always did. “How’s the arm?”

Eira lifted it slowly, suppressing a wince for Serana’s benefit. “Better.”

“It may surprise you, but the higher arts of healing were never really my thing.” The doorway into the room sat behind Eira’s couch, forcing her to crane her neck to see her. Serana wandered around the edge of the room, slowly making her way toward the hearth. “I wasn’t sure I could fix it. There was nothing left.”

Eira rolled her shoulder for effect, again trying not to flinch as the bone ground against the socket. “You did better than I could.”

“You’re too modest.”

“And it’s the second time you’ve brought me back from death. I thought a sword through the heart would be harder to fix than a few broken bones.”

“I would have said dusted rather than broken,” Serana said with a faint smile. “It seems setting bones is rather separate from knitting flesh back together. Like I said, it’s something new to me.”

Eira gave her a look as she seated herself beside the fire, sitting almost elegantly along the red brick of the hearth. Anyone else might have called it proper, or ladylike. Coming from Serana, Eira would have just called it strange.

“Thank goodness you’re a quick study,” she said after realizing she was staring.

“Not quick enough.” Serana’s eyes fell to Eira’s shoulder, where the flesh was still scarred in the shape of Harkon’s claws. It was a wretched mess of pink and white that turned her stomach to look at. “I should have been able to fix that. It should have gone away after I put the bones back together.”

“It’s alright.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re just happy not to be dead.”

“Of course I am!” Eira laughed, running a hand through her bangs as the absurdity of the statement struck her. “I’d much rather be here with a bad arm than buried with a good one.”

Serana gave her a glare but it was one without much bite. “I’m trying to apologize, you know.”

“Well that’s probably why it’s going so poorly.”

“What?”

Seeing the strain this was putting on her, Eira took a moment to compose herself and give her an honest answer, no matter how much she was enjoying pulling at the woman’s hair again. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. If you should blame anyone for all this, it should be me. Or your father. Or the poor bastard you tossed off that tower. Hell, blame the gods for giving mortal idiots a weapon like that bow.”

Serana gave her a pained look. “And I had nothing to do with it? My blood, my mistakes, all of that means nothing?”

“You’re the reason the sun is shining again. That’s all that matters to me.”

The words brought Serana up short. She sat motionless, eyes locked with Eira’s, until Eira began to wonder if she had said something wrong.

Then she remembered that look. It had been so long that she had almost forgotten what it felt like to be stared at like that. She should have expected it by now. They were in the completely wrong place at the completely wrong time. This was what they did. They took the worst luck in the world and tried to make something good out of it. Of course this wouldn’t be any different.

“Are you alright with this?”

Eira, surprisingly, found that she was. “Yes.”

“I don’t want to scare you off again.”

A very quiet laugh escaped under Eira’s breath. “You’ve tried your best so far. I don’t think you’ll manage it now.”

There were a thousand other things they should be doing and a thousand reasons they should have stayed where they were. Eira was still healing, Serana resting, the both of them exhausted physically and mentally from everything that had happened.

They ignored them all.

It was a slow thing, carefully done. It was something that neither one of them had thought possible again, and for all the scars and fears and memories that should have put an end to it, it was done almost without words.

 

The next morning, Serana found her waiting on one of the villa’s balconies, the shade from the overhang keeping the worst of the sun’s rays from reaching her. She settled in beside Eira, giving her a playful nudge as the two of them lounged against the railing.

“It feels different, doesn’t it?” Serana asked.

“Hm?”

“I thought it would be easy to just walk away. That’s what we talked about, right? We save the world, we disappear.” Serana nodded out toward the ocean. “I’d actually imagined something like this. No one bothering us, no one knowing where we were, the whole world just waiting to be explored.”

Eira tilted her head, waiting for her to finish. The same thoughts had been circling her mind as well and she wanted to hear what Serana had decided to make of them. “We are alone, and I doubt the world is in much shape to tell us what to do.”

Serana sighed. “That’s the problem. After everything we’ve done, I don’t think I can just walk away.”

“They’re rebuilding. They need carpenters, hunters, and people willing to step up and lead them through the next months. I don’t know about you but I’m not much good with a hammer.”

“I’m not asking you to start putting up houses,” Serana said wryly. “I’m just thinking we should do something. We’ve hardly even finished what we set out to do. We stopped my father but what of the bow? We can’t keep it here, can we?”

She had a point. Auriel’s Bow occupied a space of dubious honor, propped up against the wall of the guest bedroom the two had been borrowing. Like Vengeance, Eira now wondered if the world would be better for its absence. Unfortunately, she doubted simply lobbing the both of them into the sea would solve anything.

“I don’t know. With the Dawnguard gone, I don’t know who would be willing to keep something like this safe.” Eira paused, settling on the only thing that she could think of. “What about your mother?”

Serana visibly stiffened. Eira waited for her to answer, watching the waves lap against the shore just visible through the treeline. “That might be best. I don’t know if I trust her with it. I don’t know if I trust anyone with it.”

She turned to Eira, placing one hand on her arm. “I would not ask you to carry it, not if I knew any other way.”

Eira did her best not to groan. She did not want another god directing her hand but she had no better ideas. There was nothing for it. “Well, I already have one god-given weapon, I suppose I could manage two.”

The comment probably didn’t instill much confidence in Serana but she looked grateful nonetheless. “I wish there was another way.”

“We’ll think of something. We’ll manage.”

“We always do.”

Serana turned back toward the sea, letting her hand fall from Eira’s arm and come to rest on the wooden railing. She looked radiant like this, beautiful beyond what feeble words came to Eira’s mind. This was supposed to be the end. After so many days pacing the halls, worrying over her arm and everything else, she should have been thinking about this. She could have looked at her like this for the rest of her life, and now she had that chance. This was what she had been missing, what she had been trying to bring back. She couldn’t throw it away. Not again.

“What happens now?”

The question was meant for herself as much as it was for Serana. It felt like ages since they had stopped moving and just let the days pass them by. She was still getting used to that. The same could probably be said for Serana, or at least Eira hoped it could. She wanted her to say that this was the end. They stayed here, they locked the doors, and they never let the world come knocking again. That was what she wanted to hear.

Somehow, she knew she wasn’t going to get it. Serana gave her a smile, regarding her from the corner of her eye. “I don’t know. You rest, give your arm some time to heal, and then… we’ll figure it out.”

Eira was stunned. “You don’t have a plan?”

“Not yet.”

The answer was infuriatingly short. Eira stared at her, noticing only now the twinkle in her eye that only came from knowing a wonderful secret, the smile that curled up in an entirely-too-satisfied manner. “What? What are you thinking?”

Her smile stretched even further as she moved away from the railing. Eira stepped back with her, watching as Serana folded her arms and leaned back on her heels to examine her. The look made Eira uncomfortable, even if she didn’t exactly mind the attention. She stood there in silence, judging Eira as thoroughly as a horse being sold at a stable.

“Well?”

Serana’s eyes stopped wandering over her and finally came up to find her face again. “My mother had some very interesting things to say about you.”

Eira felt her back stiffen. That couldn’t be good. “Oh?”

“Do you remember the dragon? From the Soul Cairn? She told me she found a way to speak to it. After we left, it apparently struck up a very close relationship. It was trapped there, just as she was, and held no love for those keeping it prisoner. It told her about the Soul Cairn, the Ideal Masters, and all it had seen.” Serana leaned closer on the railing. “And it had a good deal to say about you.”

Eira, sensing the tension building in the moment, did what she always did. “I’m sorry, I’m still working through the part where your mother spoke to a dragon. That’s terrifying.”

“I - well, yes, it is. But that’s not the point.” Serana, laughing at Eira’s irreverence, still managed to sound annoyed. “There’s a reason you survived everything we went through. You’ve killed dragons, Eira, one of which was a deathless monster of nearly infinite power trapped within the Soul Cairn. You read three Elder Scrolls. Most don’t even survive reading one.”

“I didn’t survive you.”

“No, you didn’t. You managed to convince a Daughter of Coldharbour to turn you. You are now the closest thing to a pureblooded vampire you could possibly be. Eira, I have been around a very long time, and I have seen some very powerful people. You are the finest archer I have ever seen and quite possibly the most talented duelist, too. If that wasn’t enough, you know enough healing magic to make your way as a travelling cleric and carry on your person the vestiges of two very powerful gods. Even one of those things would make you extraordinary, Eira, and you’ve done even more than that.”

Eira was not entirely comfortable with all the wonderful things Serana was saying. She was just getting used to the idea of people knowing who she was. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being someone people were supposed to remember. “Serana, you were with me for most of that. It was luck. I had help.”

“I think they all do. All those stories, all those heroes, they never really do it alone.”

Serana was grinning at her now but Eira would have none of it. “Don’t call me that. You, of all people, know better.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Is there something more you should do to earn that title, dragonslayer?”

“Oh, gods.”

“You saved the world from darkness, in this case very literally, standing against my father even when he gave you every chance to walk away. You rescued the princess from her tower,” Serana continued, managing not only to keep a straight face but perform a flawless curtsy in her blood-stained cloak and trousers.

Eira could only narrow her eyes and scowl. “It was a tomb, not a tower.”

“And, not to belabour the point, but you have killed dragons.”

“You killed one of them,” Eira snapped. “And your mother had to keep the other one from eating me alive. All I did was finish them off. I don’t - why are you saying all this? Shouldn’t you be tormenting me about something?”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Serana held up one hand, curling her fingers until she was cupping something in her palm. Its outline was faint, lit only by the violet glow conjuration magic seemed so fond of, but Eira had no trouble counting the number of legs.

As the glow faded, Eira felt her skin crawl as a massive, orange spider crawled over Serana’s palm. She couldn’t help herself, recoiling in horror and pointing furiously at the horrible thing as it just sat there, waiting, watching her with dozens of tiny eyes. “No. No! Alright? Just… put that thing away. You can call me whatever you’d like if you make that thing go away.”

Serana obligingly vanished the creature in a puff of black smoke. Her grin did not disappear as quickly. “Of course you didn’t do it alone, and as long as I’m around, I promise you’ll never have to.”

Eira hesitated, still feeling the icy grip of panic clutching to her chest. Gods, she hated spiders. “I hate you.”

“You have something waiting for you, Eira, something I think has only existed in stories for a very long time.” Serana, her grin fading to a fond smile, closed the distance between them. “And I think you’ve already guessed at what that is. My father nearly destroyed everything. Anyone left is going to need a lot of help putting it all back together. I can’t think of a better time than now for someone like you to be here. The world is going to need you, Dragonborn.”

Dragonborn. Eira knew the word and little else. The Companions had talked about it, about the one with power beyond what mortal men could wield. Someone who could kill dragons and take their power, using it against them. Someone who could speak a word and force the world to listen. Someone who could use the Voice.

And that was her? Serana had to be wrong. This was something that happened to other people, important people who knew what they were doing. People who had trained their whole lives and woke up every morning knowing that this was who they were supposed to be.

It didn’t happen to people like Eira. She wasn’t even supposed to be in Skyrim. Her life should have been a quiet one, with Natalie working as a healer and Eira picking up something like woodworking. The Imperial City should have been her home. If Natalie hadn’t died, she never would have come here. She never would have spent so many years hunting down one man, losing herself so badly that she finally went down to Dimhollow Crypt hoping a vampire would finally put an end to it.

And a vampire had put an end to it, just not in the way she expected. Serana had given her a reason to keep going. It made her wonder if all of this was supposed to happen, if some meddling god had chosen her at birth for this. It made her wonder what would have happened if things had been just a little different. Natalie might still be alive if she had never met Eira.

The crash of thunder came from right over their heads, the cataclysmic sound so loud that the whole world seemed to shake. As the echoes roiled around them, Eira could hear a voice in the clouds.

_DOVAHKIIN!_

It could not have been anything else. Eira had known their time here would be short, she had just thought there would be at least one more day. She had hoped for one more day.

Serana regained her composure quickly. She gave little sign that anything unusual had happened beyond the slight widening of her eyes. Those remained fixed on the sky, nervously skipping between distant clouds as she returned to the railing.

Eira waited for her to turn, a hint of I-told-you-so in her eyes as she did. It was not as though she could argue.

“Well, what do you say?” Serana asked. “Is there room for one more on your adventures?”

Eira could only laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story half as much as I have. Writing for Serana has been a great pleasure and I hope to have done her wonderful character the justice it deserves.
> 
> If you enjoyed this work, please consider visiting my Tumblr page, www.tumblr.com/blogs/pinguinosentado, and buying me a coffee so that I can continue to produce fan fiction and original works. Thanks again!


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